Enslaving the Heart
by Violet Nyte
Summary: (AU, 1+2, 13x5) Heero, taken from the Wilds, finds himself purchased to be the newest slave for the Peacecraft estates. Along with the turmoil of his slavery, Heero also finds himself caught in a deadly game of possession... with the Lady of the estate!
1. Shackles

LSE // 9-16-02  
(Enslaving the Heart - Chapter One: Shackles)  
rated: R - adult language, content  
shounen-ai/extreme AU  
  
  
Shackles  
  
  
  
  
  
Something was pressed against his cheek. For a moment, it was all he   
could to stay awake and fight the closing comfort of the black   
nothingness he had left. Whatever was against his face helped focus   
his attention. It was cold, and slick. Rough. He could feel it rubbing   
his skin raw.  
  
Slowly, he gathered enough of himself together to realize it was the   
rusted iron floor to his cage, which swung precariously a handbreadth   
above the dirt floor. Dirt, because he could sense behind closed eyes   
the sun's glow on his skin. It was muted, however, and he soon   
discovered it was raining, as well.  
  
With great caution he allowed one eye to crack open and take in his   
surroundings visually. His view of the market was different that the   
other day, and the cage was not the same. This new cage was smaller   
than his old one. There were no broken scraps of metal of which to   
rake his skin against, so it was an improvement nonetheless.   
  
To one side, he could make out the hunched form of the stall   
operator. Spread out before him was the vast market, filled despite   
the drizzle which fell from the heavens. He could see others like him   
in the cages that lined the stalls across the way. Lifting his head   
far enough to turn it, he saw he was placed at the end of the row,   
therefore a great many potential customers could see him.  
  
There were getting desperate to sell him, it seemed.  
  
He pulled himself up enough to look alert and healthy. No one wasted   
money on broken goods. Scanning the crowd, he looked for anyone   
interesting, but there were only the drab commoners. To amuse   
himself, he watched a slim prostitute attempt to lure customers. She   
didn't look a day over twelve, and likely wasn't.  
  
Before long, she stalked off to a secluded alley with a muddy   
stonecutter following and he no longer had anything to watch.   
Fortunately, or perhaps rather unfortunately, a potential buyer chose   
that moment to linger for the tiniest bit before his cage.  
  
In an instant, the man hunched to one side sprung to life. "Good   
afternoon, milady."  
  
Catching the title, he turned his head slightly to look at the   
supposedly lady. To his great surprise, there was no common tradesmen   
wife, but a well and pure highbred lady standing there in her silks   
and lace. A dutiful servant held a wax-paper shade over his   
mistress's head to keep out the rain, but she didn't seem to   
acknowledge the weather beyond that.  
  
The lady ignored the man and instead let her indifferent gaze rest   
upon the cage before her.  
  
Contained beneath a wax-paper shade was a woman who looked as   
dignified as the lady, but lacked the finer clothes and jewels that   
signified rank. "My Lady Peacecraft, do you wish to inquire about   
this... boy?" the woman asked, her disdain evident.  
  
The young noblewoman inclined her head ever so slightly in   
acknowledgment.  
  
Eager to have caught the eye of obviously wealthy patronage, the man   
bobbed his head to the lady in fervent salute. "Good afternoon, good   
afternoon," he repeated, gesturing that the lady seek further shelter   
under the flimsy tarp that served as the stall. The lady and her   
party stoically ignored the gestures.   
  
"Good afternoon, sir. What are the boy's uses? Any skills or talents?"  
  
"Madame, the boy has the strength of those twice his age and size. He   
also possesses a sharp mind and a clear understanding of authority.   
And, I can assure the lady that he would make an excellent stallion,   
if given a few years. Truly, a slave worthy of the lady's attentions,   
if this humble merchant may venture to say."  
  
"No special talents? He looks too skinny, and one cheek is red. Has   
he a fever? I would have you make the boy stand, but it appears this   
cage is not large enough for him to do so," the woman put forth with   
scorn. In contrast the petite, fair-haired lady, the woman was sturdy   
and dark headed. The ebony strands were cropped short about the ears   
and only a shapely form kept her from being easily mistaken for a man.  
  
"Don't be fooled by his slender body, I assure you the boy is strong   
and fit for hard labor. He can easily be a domestic as well, although   
I would personally recommend him for labor. He has a keen   
understanding of mechanics, if the lady has any machinery on her   
lands that need tending. The boy's health is excellent. I don't think   
he knows how to be sick, to tell the truth."  
  
The dark haired woman frowned and turned to the lady with a raised   
eyebrow, "Lady Peacecraft?"  
  
The lady reached a delicate finger out the cage as if to touch it,   
causing the dark haired woman to cringe and snap a handkerchief from   
the nearest servant. The probing digit stopped short of the rusted   
metal however, and the lady finally spoke.  
  
"What is his name?"  
  
The man looked confused, "His name?"  
  
The lady's crystalline eyes turned towards the slaver, "Yes."  
  
"Er..."  
  
"What do you call him? how do you separate him from the others?" the   
lady looked confused herself, a small crease appearing in her   
otherwise flawless skin.  
  
They called him by whatever oath or profanity seemed to fit the   
moment, but the man could not utter such words to a noble.  
  
From his cage, the boy stirred and cast wary eyes to the slaver.   
"Heero," he rasped, voice harsh from disuse.  
  
The lady nodded and whispered something to her attendant, causing the   
woman to say, rather loudly, "but he's worthless!"  
  
"Noin," Lady Peacecraft said sharply.  
  
The dark haired woman, Noin, sighed and turned to the slaver. "What   
are you asking for the boy?"  
  
And so the boy known as Heero found himself freed from the cage bound   
into shackles by the lady's other servants. Noin passed the key on to   
a man Heero had not noticed before among the lady's retainers. Before   
he could gain a clear look at the man, he was neatly tossed into the   
back of a wagon and attached by his shackles to the side boards.  
  
He tossed back wet locks from his face and leaned against the side.   
The wagon was open to the elements, and the iron across his ankles   
and wrists prevented any sort of comfort. Before they left the   
market, several more items were thrown into the wagon to share his   
journey, including a cask of brandy.  
  
Rich bastards.  
  
Heero curled down best be could and tried to maximize what little   
warmth he generated. His shirt clung to his chest, channels of water   
draining out on to the wagon bed and falling through the cracks to   
the mud road beneath. He was cold, wet, unsure of his destination,   
but he was now someone's property. At least he had purpose.  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
It was dark by the time they reached the lady's estate, which lay   
between the hills and the forest. The market's purchases were   
unloaded from the wagon, but Heero was left there until the tall man   
with his key came by. "Up, boy."  
  
He heard the command and willed his body to obey. His head rested   
heavily against his chest as the shackles were unattached from the   
boards. "Out, boy."  
  
Following the voice's orders, Heero crawled down from the wagon and   
tumbled into the mud with a dull thud. What time was it? Past middle   
of night, for sure.  
  
"Trieze, put him with the rest of the field hands for now," he heard   
Noin order. There was a slight pause and then, "Why is he laying   
there in the mud? The Lady Peacecraft doesn't want the boy damaged."  
  
"Not of my doing, Madame. Up, boy," Trieze barked, adding a nudge from   
his boots to accent the command.   
  
Heero struggled to his feet and the mud sloshed off with the downpour   
of rain that dripped off his clothes and hair. "Why milady wasted   
good money on you, I'll never know," Noin muttered.   
  
"Off with you, boy."  
  
Heero obediently shuffled off in the direction Trieze indicated.   
"You'll answer promptly when told, otherwise you will remain silent.   
Orders are to obeyed without delay and I'm not one to spare the whip   
for laziness or mouth. When Lady Peacecraft is in your presence you'll   
keep your eyes cast down and under no circumstances will you look at   
her without explicit permission."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"You'll sleep in here for now," Trieze said as he swung open the   
heavy oak door. The building was low and dark, but at least it was   
dry. Heero walked forward and looked expectantly out into the bleak   
darkness. He could make out several sleeping forms laying across the   
floor, curled tightly into ratty wool blankets.  
  
Trieze pointed to a patch of floor expectantly and without another   
word took his leave. Heero stood there for a moment in the darkness,   
feeling the weight of the shackles on his body. As if the chains   
weren't enough to hold him, he heard Trieze slide locks into place   
along the door.  
  
At least it was dry.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*End*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
Author's Notes: Before I start rambling: this 'fic is about slavery,   
but not about racism. Think about this like the Romans, who kept   
anyone and everyone as a slave. The 'fic is set in fantasy world of my   
creation. Once more, this is fantasy, fiction, a complete fabrication.  
That said...  
It's been nearly a month, but I finally produced   
something worthwhile. Unfortunately, it isn't a new chapter for my   
works in progress... gomen! ^^() This story kinda tackled me and beat   
my muses into submission, and now the damn things won't let me go.   
This first chapter is terribly short, but I already have a good chunk   
of the second chapter written, and that's where we get to meet Duo,   
Wufei and the others. Why is this 'fic rated R? Well, I want some   
freedom to be violence, nasty and lemony without worrying about   
ratings. If it turns out to be okay, I might lower it back to PG13   
once I'm finished. Don't expect happy fluffiness.  
Uhm, now that I've rambled on forever and an age... ^^() I'm   
desperately trying to write, but my time is limited with school and   
social stress. (Argh) Feedback would be an awesome encouragement to   
keep me going... Since it's getting late and I want to get this on   
FF.net tonight, this 'fic is going without a beta... don't eat me.  
  
Feedback/reviews are very much appreciated! More chapters soon.  
copyright 2002 - Gundam Wing and characters copyright other people.  
LSE - "Violet" (ManzokuBiscuit@aol.com)  
Email me to join my Update ML (be alerted when I add new stories)  
www.geocities.com/manzokubiscuit/index.html 


	2. Blessings

LSE // 9-17-02  
(Enslaving the Heart - Chapter Two: Blessings)  
rated: R - adult language, content  
shounen-ai/extreme AU  
  
  
Blessings  
  
  
  
  
  
The constant buzz of noises woke him, rather than the lash. It was a   
pleasant change from his short days living with the slavers, and he   
desperately clung to that idea as he rose from sleep. And promptly   
sneezed.  
  
"Bless you."  
  
Heero cracked one eye open to peer at whomever had blessed him,   
"What?" he croaked, sleep clogging his system.  
  
"Whenever someone sneezes, you're supposed to say 'Bless you.'"  
  
"Right..."  
  
"You're new, aren't you? Did you come in last night?"  
  
Heero nodded and sat up, stiff muscles protesting. The floor, now   
that he got a good look at it in the predawn glow, was hard packed   
dirt with a thin layering of musty straw. The low, narrow building   
was packed with sturdy young men. Field hands.   
  
There was a sort of odd uniform among them of homespun tunic and   
breeches. Heero, with his rags, stood out. He also lacked a wool   
blanket, and judging by the chill set into his bones he'd paid the   
price. Heero sneezed again, just to doubly prove the point.  
  
"Bless you," the boy beside him said again. He looked the same age as   
Heero, and had a long chestnut braid decorated with straw from the   
floor. The boy peered at him with surprisingly cheery violet eyes.  
  
"Are you new?"  
  
"Not really. This will be my second year come the harvest," the boy   
paused before adding, "why?"  
  
Heero didn't want to tell the boy that he didn't look as broken or   
depressed as some of the others. Amethyst looked quizzically back at   
him, the innocent question poised on perfect lips...  
  
"No reason."  
  
"You don't have the look of a field hand. Are you meant to be a house   
slave? My sister's a house slave."  
  
"They didn't tell me. Trieze--"  
  
"Master Trieze," the boy corrected, "to his face, at least."  
  
Heero couldn't help but crack the tiniest of smiles. Before the   
conversation could go further, however, the door swung open. Those   
nearest the heavy oak scrambled out of the way, lest they be smashed   
between wall and door. The other slaves relaxed a bit when they saw   
it was not Trieze, but merely a fellow slave.  
  
"Wufei," the braided boy called with a slight wave. Heero found it   
odd the slave had access to the locked door, which was being pushed   
shut by this Wufei. He eyed the brass key ring at the boy's waist   
greedily. Was the shackle's key on that ring?  
  
Wufei walked over, eyes locked on Heero, who squirmed slightly under   
the attentions. Wufei was only slightly shorter than them, but looked   
to be about the same age. His jet black hair was tightly bound in a   
small ponytail, which Heero had the most unreasonable desire to pull.  
  
"You would be the new slave," Wufei said with a nod to the iron cuffs.   
  
"Damn," the boy beside him said appreciatively with a low whistle, "I   
bet even you couldn't break out of those, Wufei."  
  
"That would be the purpose of them, now wouldn't it? The shackles   
will be removed as soon as you're branded."  
  
Heero slowly turned his eyes up to the boy, "Branded?"  
  
"Yes," Wufei said. "Duo, show him yours."  
  
The boy, Duo, narrowed violet hues in mock anger at Wufei, but   
obligingly rolled his pants up to reveal the symbol burned into his   
flesh. Above the knee, in the meatiest part of the thigh, was the   
Peacecraft family insignia. Heero shuddered slightly and looked away   
as Duo rolled the fabric back down. "We all have them."  
  
"Unless you stay in the shackles, or you're only temporary. The Lady   
will decide if she want to keep you around," Wufei offered with a   
practical air.  
  
Duo scuffed the back of his hand against his cheek with a yawn, "What   
time is it, Wufei?"  
  
"Time for me to leave. Here, Hilde sends this," he said, quickly   
handing a plain paper package in Duo's hands. The other field hands   
shuffled aside to let him pass, and Heero wondered what the boy's   
position was that allowed such privilege.  
  
As if reading his thoughts, Duo said, "Wufei's been here forever. I   
heard he's got enough to buy his freedom, but the Peacecrafts won't   
dare let him go, on account he knows so much about the business."  
  
"Is that why he has those keys?"  
  
"No, that's because he's on Master Trieze's good side."  
  
"You mean his backside," another slave called, having caught some of   
our conversation. Those near enough to hear the remark chuckled, a   
bit of light spreading across their faces as they did so.  
  
Duo flushed slightly, but continued as if the interruption hadn't   
occurred, "Wufei wouldn't run, and they know it. He's kinda like   
Master Trieze's underling."  
  
"He's under Trieze, that's for sure," the same interloper shouted.   
  
In response to the insult upon his friend, Duo whirled around and   
shouted, "A pox on you and yours, you dirty flea-ridden bastard!"  
  
Heero cracked another slight smile. Duo sheepishly turned back around   
and the two looked at each other for a moment, locked in a simple   
glance that twisted and started to take on...  
  
The oak door slammed open with enough force to make those nearest the   
entrance leap back with scarcely contained oaths. "Up! Daylight's   
wasting," Trieze shouted, storming his way across the area. Any slave   
not quick enough to scramble up and off to safety got a square kick   
from the slave master's boot.  
  
Duo immediately jumped to his feet and joined the clump of slaves by   
the walls. Heero followed, trailing slightly because of the iron   
shackles. The metal made a loud clanging noise, which attracted the   
attentions of the other slaves near him.  
  
Trieze lifted the leather whip and cracked it above the huddled   
slaves' heads. "Move out!" the slave master shouted, gesturing   
towards the door. The leather lashed out at those not quick enough to   
obey instantly. Heero looked over, slightly startled, as an older   
slave beside him dropped back with a cry, but sympathy was a waste.   
He hurried outside and into the murky dawn.  
  
Besides the shuffle of feet and a few sleepy coughs, the slaves were   
remarkably quiet. Trieze glared out at them with contempt, but his   
gaze caught on Heero as he moved slightly, chains rattling.  
  
"You," the man barked, gesturing with his whip. Those beside Heero   
shuffled away, lest they be caught up in whatever deed had attracted   
the master's eye. "Go up to the kitchen and wait there. Don't set   
foot on the house premises, understood?"  
  
To punctuate the words, Trieze slapped the whip against his side.   
"Yes, sir," Heero said with as little sarcasm as possible.  
  
"Yes, Master!" Trieze shouted, whip flying out.   
  
"Yes, Master." Heero turned away before the man could see the slight   
smirk across his face. He ignored the sting running down his back and   
clanked off towards the kitchen.  
  
The main house stood slightly secluded from the rest of the estate,   
as if pretending to be more than a well-off farmhouse. Heero could   
see the building's original structure beneath the noble additions and   
graceful wings. As he trudged towards the red brick kitchen, Heero   
looked back at the open expanse of field and realized that there were   
a strikingly few amount of slaves for such an obviously wealthy.  
  
The main income for the estate was obviously not from crops, he   
though, taking into account the number of field hands (scarcely   
fifty) and open forest he saw. Horses, perhaps? Before he could muse   
longer on the subject, a flurry of activity burst out from the   
building before him.   
  
"Don't bring that into my kitchen, you little buggers!" came a shrill   
female voice from inside the structure. Two small boys nearly   
collided with Heero, skidding around him and escaping towards the   
stables.  
  
"Bastards!" shrieked the voice, the door swinging open to reveal a   
stoutly woman brandishing a soup ladle.  
  
Heero blinked at her in confusion and the woman looked at him in   
disgust, "What the bloody hell do you want?"  
  
"Master Trieze sent me up here."  
  
The woman glanced to his shackled feet and hands. "Yes, I supposed he   
did," she answered, turning back into the kitchen. Heero hastily   
followed her, catching the door with his shoulder to hold it open.  
  
If the pursuit of the boys had been a flurry, then the kitchen was a   
full blown blizzard. Bodies were packed into the space as the stoutly   
woman shouted orders which were obeyed with varying degrees of speed   
and respect. Breakfast had already been prepared and was being   
carried to the house by pretty serving maids. It occurred to Heero   
that most of the slaves he'd seen about the estate so far were all   
rather appealing, as far as slaves went.  
  
"What are you doing here?" the stoutly woman snapped, looking to the   
disturbance which occupied her doorway.  
  
"Master Trieze sent me."  
  
"Yes, we already established -- bugger the Light, girl, watch where   
you're going! -- that. What more do you want of me?" the woman   
snapped her glare to the passing serving maid who nearly bumped into   
her.  
  
"I was told to go to the kitchen."  
  
"Fascinating. Get out from the bloody doorway."  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"Have you received word from my brother, Noin?"   
  
"No, milady."  
  
"I had thought so," Lady Relena Peacecraft said coldly without   
turning from the looking glass. She lifted the long fall of golden   
hair with one hand and impatiently cleared her throat. The   
hairdresser, a skittish girl, hurried over and began to run a   
tortoiseshell comb through the locks.  
  
"Messengers are about as useless as Cassinilla," Lady Relena observed   
with a laugh.   
  
Cassinilla, the hairdresser, flushed a bright pink and murmured,   
"Milady," in a sorrowful voice.  
  
"Milady, please let Cassinilla do her work. Trieze wished for you to   
inspect that new slave first thing this morning."  
  
"Trieze does not set my schedule, does he Noin? If I choose to be   
late I shall do so without reprimand from my own servants."  
  
"I meant no offense, milady. My humblest apology," Noin said,   
curtsying quickly.  
  
Relena smiled, "It really is most fortunate you have such a kind   
mistress as me, Lucrezia."  
  
"I feel most blessed, milady."  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*End*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
Author's Notes: noo....not another chapter-a-day! *cries* This was a   
fluke, really... *sigh* and I already have a good chunk of chapter   
three ready. This story just barnacled to me, I swear.  
Wow! Hasn't even been twenty-four hours since I posted chapter one   
and   
I already got three reviews in! O_o sweetness! *muses have review-  
party in background*   
Slight disclaimer: I cannot guarantee chapter-a-day progress...  
(hmm...now where have we heard THAT before? *glares at muses*)   
Oh, yes, this is also without a beta. (Much thanks to the kind   
reviewer who said I didn't need a beta! ^^ *glomp*)  
  
Feedback/reviews are very much appreciated! More chapters soon.  
copyright 2002 - Gundam Wing and characters copyright other people.  
LSE - "Violet" (ManzokuBiscuit@aol.com)  
Email me to join my Update ML (be alerted when I add new stories)  
www.geocities.com/manzokubiscuit/index.html 


	3. A Noble Encounter

LSE // 9-18-02  
(Enslaving the Heart - Chapter Three: A Noble Encounter)  
rated: R - adult language, content  
shounen-ai/extreme AU  
  
  
A Noble Encounter  
  
  
  
  
  
Having been ignored by the stout woman, Heero obediently shuffled   
over near the pot washer. The frail girl didn't look up from her   
work, but resolutely bent over a great tub of soapy water, which she   
dunked and scrubbed in. As quick as the girl moved, the stack of   
dirty dishes around her rose as the instruments used to prepare   
supper were hauled off the fires and delivered for cleaning.  
  
"Hey," Heero called, sliding over towards her.  
  
The girl looked up with a slight glare, but nodded to him with   
acknowledgment and bent once more to her task. "What is it?" the girl   
said, pausing long enough to brush back strands of pale red hair.  
  
"Can I have some of your water?"  
  
The girl's eyes rolled off the dishes and over to him, "Pardon? What   
have you need of soaped water?"  
  
"No, the rinse water beside you."  
  
The dishwasher glanced over and set again to her task. She finished   
one entire pot before answering, "If you wish to drink it, yes, but I   
warn you it's not very pleasing to taste. If you wish to take it, no,   
because I need it and I have little fondness for refilling it from   
the pump."  
  
Heero looked at her quizzically for a moment, then carefully tasted   
some of the liquid. It was cold, but slightly tepid. No matter. Heero   
drank deeply, setting the bucket back beside the girl.  
  
The washer shrugged slightly, "You would be new. Has the Lady looked   
you over, yet?"  
  
"She bought me."  
  
"That means little. You haven't even your ring."  
  
"My ring?" Heero looked to girl's submerged hands.  
  
"Not there," the girl said impatiently, one dripping finger lifting   
out long enough to tuck back offending hair and gesture to her ear.   
A simple silver loop adorned her. Heero took a long glance around the   
kitchen and noticed all of the other slaves had similar rings in   
their ears. Even, he noted, the males.  
  
Did the field hands have earrings? Heero tried to search back through   
his memory, but a strong sleepy haze obscured his thoughts. Duo might   
have had an earring, but it certainly wasn't silver.  
  
"It's a ranking system amongst us, and makes for quicker  
identification than the brands, at least here on the estate. The   
domestics have silver or gold rings and the laborers have copper. I'm   
sure they would have iron, but it would surely rust and promote   
disease," the girl explained as if reading his mind.  
  
Heero nodded slightly. First branding, now piercing?  
  
"Are you going to be in the kitchens? Working, that is. If you could   
call this work," the girl added with a sigh. She lifted her hands   
from the water and dried them carefully on her homespun apron. Heero   
stared in fascination at the deep creases caused by almost constant   
immersion in water.  
  
"I don't know," he replied, tearing his eyes from her hands as she   
resumed dishwashing with a frenzy. Heero looked around for the sudden   
cause of this energy and saw Noin standing there, frowning down at   
him.  
  
"Would you be the new boy, then? Come along," she ordered, turning   
neatly at the heal and walking out from the kitchens with an   
authoritative air. Lesser servants threw themselves out of her water,   
but showed no such respect for Heero.  
  
Noin led him across the kitchen and through a covered walkway which   
led towards the house. Instead of going immediately into the main   
house, Noin led him off into a side chamber of cold cement. There   
were two buckets of water and a cake of soap lying on the floor.  
  
"You two, get to work. Never mind the shackles, just wash around   
them," Noin said, gesturing sharply at the two slaves standing in the  
corner. They leapt into action, seizing Heero and quickly removing   
him of his rags.  
  
Noin stood in the doorway and appraised his body with a critical eye,   
"The lash mark across your back, is that new?"  
  
"Yes, Madame."  
  
Noin muttered something profane about Trieze, which caused Heero and   
the two other slaves to jump slightly. Heero didn't like the feel of   
the other slaves on him, but there was little to do as they scrubbed   
up a thick lather from the soap. It was simple lye soap, but still   
preferable to river mud.  
  
The water was cold and he shuddered slightly as they dumped the rise   
water on him. The ordeal was over and he stood there, dripping but   
cleaned of mud and straw. The slaves patted him thoroughly with a   
towel and slipped back into the shadows, anxiously looking to Noin   
for approval.  
  
Noin paid them little attention, however, and nudged a pile of   
homespun cloth towards Heero. He crossed the small space and took up   
the fabric, unfolding it to reveal the same breeches and shirt the   
other slaves he had seen so far wearing. The cloth felt nice against   
him skin despite its coarseness.   
  
"At least your hair looks presentable enough. Dismissed," Noin said   
rudely to the slaves, who rushed out like Death himself rode on their   
heels. Noin walked out without another word, assuming correctly that   
Heero would know enough to trail along at a suitable length.  
  
The covered walkway curled from the kitchen and around to the back   
entrance of the main house. Serving maids sat about chatting, but   
immediately snapped to attention when Noin walked in. The girls   
nearest the doors slipped off into the house while those caught   
without work tried to look as busy as possible.  
  
Noin ignored them all and continued through the room and out into the   
actual living areas. Heero let his eyes wander off the back of Noin's   
head and take in the rich adornments that sprinkled the Peacecraft   
manor. They passed down a wide hallway lined with portraits,   
apparently those of the Peacecraft family. Before he could see all   
the paintings, Noin ducked into a side door and Heero found himself   
in the Lady's parlor.  
  
Lady Peacecraft sat elegantly perched on a stuffed chair, a small   
table tray before her carrying morning tea. "Bring him in, Noin, and   
then you are dismissed."  
  
"Milady?"  
  
"Did I stutter, Noin?"  
  
"No, milady, but do you think it safe to..."  
  
"Are you doubting my judgment?" the Lady asked in a soft yet   
dangerous voice.  
  
"No, milady..." Noin said, shooting a glare to Heero as if it were   
all his fault. The look also clearly said, "Try anything, and I'll   
rip your bloody eyes out and use them for billiards."  
  
After Noin left, the Lady completely ignored him as she polished off   
the remaining cookie with her tea. Once she had sufficiently showed   
that he was waiting on her, and not the other way around, the Lady   
set the tray aside and took him in.  
  
"I must say, you clean up rather nicely."  
  
"Thank you, milady," Heero said, try to affect the same respectful   
tone he'd heard Noin use in apology. Remembering Trieze's orders, he   
kept his eyes firmly on the ground, not even daring to look in the   
Lady's direction.  
  
"I haven't really much need of a new slave in the fields."  
  
Heero met this remark with silence, unsure of how to respond. He did   
not want to offend the Lady, for fear she might return him to the   
market. He would have a much better chance of escaping if he stayed   
on the estate.  
  
"Nor have I need of a domestic. What use them, are you to me?"  
  
Heero was so surprised that he looked up, forgetting Trieze's strict   
forbidding of looking at the Lady without permission. Crystal blue   
eyes met his gaze evenly, a small smirk lighting across her features,   
"How daring," she murmured. "Did Trieze forget to explain the rules   
of your slavery?"  
  
"No, he explained them."  
  
"Ah," she breathed softly, staring at him with frank curiosity, "and   
yet you still look upon me as if you were a freeman? I could have you   
flogged, murdered if I so wished."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Such insubordination..." the Lady laughed to herself, rising from   
her chair and walking over to him, her skirts swishing together with   
silken perfection. Heero quickly dropped his gaze back to the floor.   
"What land are you from, where slaves may look upon the form of   
nobility?"  
  
"Far away," he answered curtly, but instantly regretting his sharp   
tone. She would surely have the skin peeled off his back by the   
lash.  
  
"What is your name? Heero, is it?"  
  
He nodded, not wanting to trust his rebellious tongue.  
  
Soft hands grasped his chin and gently forced his eyes up to meet   
hers. "Perhaps I have use for you after all," the Lady whispered, her   
eyes void of emotion and cold as ice. In contrast, her voice caressed   
the words in such a way to cause shivers down Heero's spine.  
  
"What..."  
  
"Shh..." the Lady admonished softly, releasing his chin and trailing   
her gloved fingers along the ridge of his ear, "you must learn to be   
respectful, and address me properly."  
  
Heero swallowed, but there was no moisture in his mouth. He knew he   
had to look away and break the contact, but blue hues locked into   
him, pulling him deeper into the forbidden moment...  
  
"My name is Lady Relena Peacecraft. Say it."  
  
"La...Lady Relena Peacecraft..."  
  
Relena's eyes half closed as she stepped away, a low sound, like a   
cat's purr, issuing from her throat. "You shall do," she said in a   
satisfied tone, ignoring his trembling form and ringing the braided   
cord by the door.   
  
Within moments, Noin appeared, casting a suspicious look to Heero,   
who locked his eyes firmly onto the blue and gold carpet. "Milady?"  
  
"Gold," Relena said, echoing his thoughts. She turned away from her   
attendant and glided over towards the window. "Don't you think so?"  
  
"Milady?"  
  
"Perhaps a doctor should investigate your hearing, Noin, as it seems   
to be amiss. Have the boy branded and ringed at once."  
  
Noin glared daggers at Heero, taking immediate offense at the boy's   
mere existence. "Of course, milady. Might I inquire as to what you   
have decided to do with him?"  
  
Relena turned from the window and skimmed her gaze delicately over   
the slave, then entwining her eyes with Noin's, "For now, he may   
sleep with the field hands until more convenient arrangements can be   
made. I trust that will not be a problem." It was not a question.  
  
Noin curtsied low, and Heero followed suit a split second later, but   
not quick enough to escape a hiss of disapproval from Noin. If Relena   
heard it, she chose to not acknowledge it. "After he is branded, let   
him eat lunch with the domestics. He may assist in the kitchens until   
the field hand come in."  
  
"Milady, I do not question your decision, but would it not be more   
convenient for him just to stay with the other domestics?"  
  
"Perhaps, but you forget there would be no room for him. Tomorrow I   
shall attend the matter further. Do not bother me about it until   
then." Relena waved away any future comments and glided out between   
them with a gentle swish of her skirts. As she passed Heero, she   
brushed her gloved fingers across the back of his palm.  
  
"Of course, milady," Noin said to the disappearing swish of fabric   
that was her mistress. She turned her eyes to Heero with a scowl,   
"Gold, she says, bloody gold!"  
  
Heero didn't quite know what to say to that, so he wisely kept quiet.  
  
Noin sighed and reached for the braided rope, but she hesitated and   
looked once more to Heero, a small smiling slowly crossing her face.   
"I'll take you to be branded myself. I'm looking forward greatly to   
your screams...please don't disappoint me."  
  
Iron, red hot from the fire, being pressed into his thigh... Heero   
had no doubts that he would not disappoint Noin.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*End*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
Author's Notes: Shh...don't let the muses know I finished another   
chapter! ^^() Hmm... After I finish my homework, I'll get started on   
chapter four... I realize my characterization might be a little off   
for the purposes of the story, but this is extreme Alternate   
Universe, so I guess it's okay. I love how this story is turning out!   
What do you think? Should I keep going? Oh, and by the way for anyone   
who is keeping track, this is also going without a beta. So, any   
grammatical errors are my fault entirely. Oops.  
  
Feedback/reviews are very much appreciated! More chapters soon.  
copyright 2002 - Gundam Wing and characters copyright other people.  
LSE - "Violet" (ManzokuBiscuit@aol.com)  
Email me to join my Update ML (be alerted when I add new stories)  
www.geocities.com/manzokubiscuit/index.html 


	4. Twice Marked

LSE // 9-21-02  
(Enslaving the Heart - Chapter Four: Twice Marked)  
rated: R - adult language, content  
shounen-ai/extreme AU  
  
  
Twice Marked  
  
  
  
  
  
A foreign object was impaled through the soft tissue of his ear,   
curving around and meeting in a solid loop with no practical end.   
Heero ran a cautious finger along the metal ring, feeling the   
gleaming gold beneath his skin. Gold, for whatever reasons. He   
shuddered, remembering the look in Lady Relena's iced hues.  
  
Burning pain raced along his thigh from the branding, even though the   
act had occurred some time ago. Although, he thought we grim pride,   
it turned out that Noin would just have to live without hearing him   
scream. Surprisingly, the branding hurt less than the earring.  
  
He navigated as best he could through one of the damp and narrow slave  
passages that allowed quick access to the manor without being visible   
by the occupants. Selecting the proper door, he led himself into the   
house slave's dining hall. Dining chamber would be a more accurate   
label.  
  
There were already a few tired looking slaves huddled around the long   
wooden table, and Heero took his seat a polite distance from them. He   
didn't feel like socializing. He sat there for a few minutes before   
realizing lunch was a self-serve occasion. Feeling foolish, but   
opting to look like he meant to sit there uselessly, Heero rose and   
went over the cooking pot set on a rickety table. The poor table   
looked ready to surrender its burden at any moment, so he readily   
took a bowl and took a generous portion of the pot's contents to   
lighten the load.  
  
Resuming his perch on the bench, Heero looked down at his bowl and   
realized that he would need a spoon to shovel the thick stew in with.   
He started to rise, but a gentle voice said, "Here you are!" and set   
the desired instrument beside his bowl.  
  
Heero looked up in mild surprise and found himself faced off with a   
small blonde boy, who gave a warm smile and sat beside him. So much   
for anti-socialism. "Does it hurt much?" the boy asked suddenly, his   
features melted into a look of genuine concern.  
  
"What?" was Heero's brilliantly articulate response. A few seconds   
later: "Oh, the ear. No, not really."  
  
The blonde nodded sagely and extended a hand in greeting, "I'm   
Quatre. It's nice to meet you."  
  
Surprisingly, the boy sounded as if he truly meant it. Heero took the   
hand and, when the contact had ended, found himself looking at the   
gold earring through the blonde's ear. Gold, not silver. Which told  
him nothing except Quatre was a house slave, but that would be   
obvious considering where they were at.   
  
Wait, he needed to say something. Coherent, preferably. "Heero."  
  
"Pardon?" Quatre said, a bit confused. "Oh, is that your name? It's   
nice," the boy looked as if he were going to say more, but suddenly   
his gaze wandered off Heero's face and fixed on something off his   
shoulder and to the left.   
  
Heero watched, transfixed, as the entire boy's face illuminated with   
a sudden burst of happiness. He twisted around in his seat and   
followed the blonde's aquamarine gaze to rest upon a tall boy with   
sweeping brown bangs that fell over one eye, but the eye that   
remained was a brilliant green. Emerald.  
  
After getting his meal, the boy walked over and took a seat beside   
Quatre, who turned to him and positively beamed. "Trowa, this is   
Heero. Heero, this is Trowa."  
  
Heero nodded to the boy, who nodded back and firmly set to eating.   
That was the end of the introduction, apparently. "Trowa works in the   
stables," Quatre said with a hint of pride in his voice. "Where have   
you been assigned?"  
  
Heero shrugged, "I find out tomorrow."  
  
Like Quatre and himself, Trowa sported a gold earring in one ear.   
Heero was curious as to precisely why some of the house slaves had   
silver and others had gold. Clearly, it was not based on where the   
slaves worked, because Quatre's hands were soft and unmarked by labor.   
  
"What about you?" he asked, wanting to steer the conversation off of   
himself. Perhaps if he socialized with the other slaves enough he  
could pick up enough information to see himself off the estate and   
back to home. Home...  
  
"I play the violin for Lady Peacecraft whenever she needs   
entertainment. Other than that, I clean," Quatre offered with slight   
smile. Heero raised an eyebrow and the blonde shrugged, poking his   
stew with a spoon warily. "I wish I would get transferred to kitchen   
duty. I'm positive they didn't wash these vegetables before cooking."  
  
Trowa laughed silently and whispered something into Quatre's ear   
which caused him to grin in response. Heero felt a distinct   
loneliness at being excluded from their small circle, but instantly   
beat that part of him up and stole its earring. He had no need for   
company, merely the information and supplies to organize escape. If   
Trowa worked in the stable, he could perhaps procure a horse...  
  
"Nice to meet you," Heero said with as much feeling as he could   
generate. Rising, he set his dishes aside and started back through   
the slave passages. He had spent the morning in the kitchen turning   
the fire spits, and as he made his was back to the kitchen, he was   
not eager to spend the afternoon in the same manner.  
  
When he arrived, Mistress Holt, the stout freewoman who ran the   
kitchens, paused from her duties to bark at him, "Wash pots with   
Sarilyn!"  
  
For a moment, Heero looked stupidly out at the ordered chaos before   
realizing he knew precisely where to go. Navigating through, he made   
his was over to the same dishwasher he'd talked to earlier. She   
didn't bother to look up from her work as he approached. "Set the   
dishes here and I'll get to them when I can," Sarilyn said, gesturing   
slightly with a shoulder.  
  
"I'm here to wash," Heero explained as he knelt on the other side of   
the tub and took a dirty skillet from the stack of dishes.  
  
A soft clank rang out, muted by the water, as the girl dropped the   
pot she was washing and looked up, clearly startled, at Heero. She   
brushed back a loose strand of pale red hair, "What?"  
  
"Mistress Holt. She said to wash pots with Sarilyn. Are you Sarilyn?"  
  
"Yeah, Sari. I've been doing this for three years and I just now get   
assistance? Figures," the girl muttered as she fetched the fallen pot   
and resumed scrubbing.  
  
Heero mimicked her actions with the skillet he'd taken and soon fell   
into an easy rhythm. Not the most interesting job by far, but at   
least it gave him plenty of time for thoughts. What was his fate,   
here at the Peacecraft manor? Hopefully, he could arrange and execute   
escape before the completion of the month.   
  
Perhaps Lady Relena could be of use. That boy from lunch, Trowa,   
would also come in handy. Heero assigned himself the task of finding   
out what sort of securities he would have to break, the first of   
which being how to slip out in the night without detection.  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"Working sucks."  
  
Wufei grunted slightly and pretended he wasn't paying any attention   
to Duo's comments, but a small smirk gave it away. "I'm supposed to   
whip you if you talk," Wufei said under his breath, pausing before   
Duo as if he was examining his work.  
  
"I don't listen to such talk outside the bedroom," Duo whispered   
back, his infectious grin leaking across and on to Wufei's face.  
  
"Wufei!" Trieze barked from the opposite side of the building,   
walking around the massive machinery to pin the boy with his glare.  
  
"Cut it out, Maxwell, you're going to get me in trouble," Wufei   
whispered as he straightened and turned to the slave master. He   
quickly gave a minute salute and shouted back, "All clear over here,  
Master Trieze!"  
  
Trieze nodded slightly to himself and continued on to the next row of   
slaves. Duo's nimble fingers danced over the spindles, plucking the   
thin cotton strands as they were woven into broad rolls of fabric.   
Peacecraft textiles were among the most sophisticated in the region   
and made up a large portion of the estate's income. Duo, however,   
remained oblivious to the importance of his work, but merely took   
solace in the fact that he no longer worked the long hours in the   
field tending to the cotton that supplied the machines.  
  
Wufei reluctantly moved down the line, snapping orders to the slaves   
every once in a while to keep up appearances for Trieze. Suddenly,   
the air was pierced by a long, thin scream of terror that nearly   
caused Duo to ruin the entire mass of work before him. Trieze shouted   
something and a groan went up through the machines as they were cut   
off, one by one. Duo bent quickly to his task, frantically trying to   
keep the threads from tangling as his machine shut off beneath him.  
  
The scream went on and on as Trieze continued to shout in anger.   
Wufei's footsteps echoed off the stone floor as he raced over to the   
opposing row of machines. Duo's machine finally came to a halt and he   
stood back from it, grateful for the respite but feeling guilty in   
the same instance. The slaves tending machinery on either side of him   
peered across the way, looking to see who had gotten tangled in their   
work. Literally.  
  
"Maxwell!" Wufei shouted, waving for him. Duo broke from his machine   
and hurried over, coming around the towering machine and upon the   
scene. A careless slave had neglected to pay attention to their work   
and let their sleeve fall into the spindles.  
  
Duo shuddered slightly at the carnage, but walked fixedly over to   
Wufei and Trieze, who was shouted oaths at the slave for being so   
careless. Not as if the poor slave was paying much attention, not   
with his arm all but torn free by the powerful jaws of his machine.  
  
Together, he and Wufei untangled the slave as much they could intact   
and lowering him to the floor, blood flowing out over their feet.   
"You'll be okay," Duo whispered slightly to the terrified slave,   
speaking softly so that the irate Trieze would not over hear.  
  
Wufei heard the reassurance and looked up slightly, shaking his head   
at Duo in reprimand. "Master Trieze, shall we take him to the   
surgeon?"  
  
Trieze gladly coldly down at the bloodied form on the floor, "No. Let   
him lay there. He's set back production for the entire day and ruined   
his machine. It will take hours to clean the gears of his blood!   
Bastard!" Trieze cried vehemently, kicking the slave.   
  
"Master Trieze, you might be able to salvage the boy if we hurry,"   
Wufei put forward, trying but failing to conceal his disapproval of   
Trieze's orders. Duo froze, not wanting to witness the showdown   
between Master and slave, but not able to will his body into motion.  
  
Please, Wufei, don't do this! Duo thought, wanting to grab his friend   
and drag him away by force. Wanting to punch the smug look off   
Trieze's face.  
  
Trieze lifted back his hand and slapped Wufei across the face,   
transferring his rage from the wounded slave to Wufei in a single   
motion. "Questioning MY authority, Chang?" Trieze sneered, spitting   
the name out like an insult.  
  
"Death is not a fair price for his mistake!" Wufei shouted in   
challenge.  
  
"I will decide what is fair, boy!"  
  
"This is an insult to justice!"  
  
Wufei didn't flinch when Trieze raised his hand once more, but the   
blow knocked him to the ground. Trieze looked down, flexing his hands   
slightly with desire for Wufei to get back up and challenge him.   
  
The fight had been knocked out of Wufei, or he had sensed the futility  
of his resistance. The boy merely coughed out a mouthful of blood   
from his split lip and settled to glare up at Trieze.  
  
Trieze smiled coldly as he said, "I am justice."   
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*End*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
Author's Notes: I like how this part came out. Let's see, not much to   
say here, really. Thank you very much for all the kind and   
encouraging reviews that you have sent in so far. I'm really pleased   
overall of how this story is progressing and I plan on seeing it to   
the end. No school on Monday, yay! Another two days for writing.   
  
Feedback/reviews are very much appreciated! More chapters soon.  
copyright 2002 - Gundam Wing and characters copyright other people.  
LSE - "Violet" (ManzokuBiscuit@aol.com)  
Email me to join my Update ML (be alerted when I add new stories)  
www.geocities.com/manzokubiscuit/index.html 


	5. Acts of Kindness

LSE // 9-22-02  
(Enslaving the Heart - Chapter Five: Acts of Kindness)  
rated: R - adult language, content  
shounen-ai/extreme AU  
  
  
Acts of Kindness  
  
  
  
  
  
"Where are you staying?" Sarilyn asked during one of the rare breaks   
when they were waiting for the next batch of dirty dishes.  
  
"With the field hands."  
  
"Not all of them work in the fields, so the title's kinda pointless,   
isn't it?"  
  
Heero frowned, looking to the girl with renewed curiosity, "What do   
you mean?"  
  
"A handful, okay, more than a handful. I'm not sure of the exact   
number. Anyway, they work at the machines. Making cloth, you know.   
Peacecraft cloth is famous around here. Milord brought back one of   
the machines from across the ocean, from Cycenne, so the Peacecrafts   
are the only ones in the whole country with such a machine."  
  
"What sort of machine is it?"  
  
Sarilyn shrugged, "I've never seen them myself. Supposedly, there are   
six of them now. I guess that is a handful. Anyway, they're huge, the   
building that keeps them is three floors tall, only it's all one   
floor. Massive, dangerous things. Slaves that work the machines often   
end up getting maimed, or killed."  
  
A passing serving maid paused hearing Sarilyn say this. The maid, a   
pretty slave with a gold hoop through one ear, tucked her tray under   
one arm and said, "I heard there was an accident today. Rumiard got   
caught up in his machine. Ripped his bloody arm clean off, poor   
bastard."  
  
"Back to work, Attile!" Mistress Holt shouted, raising her rolling   
pin threateningly. The serving maid rolled her eyes and hurried off,   
mumbled rather unpleasant things about her mistress.  
  
"Bloody hell," Sarilyn said in an awed sort of tone, "Rumiard use to   
be a spit-boy. Poor guy, he's useless now."  
  
Heero wondered what sort of machine was powerful enough to   
accidentally rip someone's arm off. "What will happen to him?"   
  
"If he's lucky, Lady Relena might be able to sell him. Damaged goods,   
though. I'm not sure what sort of labor he'd be able to do. He   
couldn't wash dishes, what with just the one arm and all."  
  
"Speaking of dishes, Sari," an undercook said with a smile as he   
deposited an armful of items in question.  
  
"How wonderful. Thanks ever so much, Owyn," Sarilyn said with a heavy   
sigh, picking up her pumice stone again and submerging her hands into   
the soaped water. "It's getting late, Heero, when are you supposed to   
quit for the day?"  
  
Heero shrugged, taking one of the pots from the stack and scrubbing   
away. "I'm not sure. What happens if they can't sell him?"  
  
"I'm not sure," Sarilyn said in a tone that made it clear she knew   
perfectly well what would happen, but wasn't willing to share. When   
she was washing, Sarilyn rarely spoke unless forced to. She was   
singularly focused on her one task in life: washing.  
  
Heero shuddered at the idea that he would spend the rest of his life   
in a similar manner. However, he was suddenly struck with the   
realization that none of the slaves he had seen were past middle age.   
Most were around his age or slightly older. Odd.  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
Duo effortlessly brushed aside his friend's hands and reapplied the   
damp rag to the cut lip, gratefully noticing the blood had stopped   
flowing from it. Besides the cut and swollen lip, Wufei's face was   
miraculously unscathed, but Duo could see a developing bruise across   
one of his fair cheeks. "I know," Duo said quietly, "you're always   
just fine."  
  
Wufei didn't say anything in reply, but the boy looked worried about   
more than just a mar on his beauty, for what little good it did him.   
Duo lowered the rag, satisfied that the lip was not about to open up   
and cry crimson again.   
  
"What do you think will happen to him?" he asked suddenly, both of   
them knowing precisely what he was talking about.  
  
The other boy shrugged slightly, "Unless he crawls to Mistress Po's   
room and she miraculously cures him and reattaches the arm in perfect   
working order..."  
  
Duo shuddered slightly, well aware that a similar fate would   
eventually come to him as long as he worked on the machines. He could   
easily see his own body in place of Rumiard's. Twisted beyond repair,   
one or more limbs torn free by the awesome power of the machines.  
  
"You think he'll die?"  
  
Wufei hesitated slightly before nodding. "Master Trieze..." somehow,   
he managed to inflict anger, concern and pain into a simple name, "I   
highly doubt he'll go back on his decision to leave the boy there. As   
punishment," the concern and pain faded, leaving Wufei glaring darkly   
out into the empty air between them.  
  
"I know," Duo said reassuringly, "it's very unfair. Life isn't fair,   
Wu. Never has, never will be. Don't you think slavery is an   
injustice?" he asked in a near whisper, for such words could easily   
get him a flogging, or far worse.   
  
"It is," Wufei said with great conviction, "one of the greater   
injustices I must sit by and let occur before me."  
  
"You try, Wu. Some of the other slaves really respect what you're   
doing. Uhm, you know, with Master Trieze..." Duo let the statement   
die into an embarrassed squeak. He never liked talking about Wufei's   
special relations with Trieze, but it was the truth. Wufei acted like   
a buffer between the violate Trieze and the slaves he wielded power   
over. Sometimes, Wufei won the spats over injustice.   
  
"Yes, and the rest of them think I'm a traitor," Wufei added   
bitterly, his dark eyes obscuring the actual emotion lurking beneath   
the exterior. He sighed and stood, offering a hand to assist Duo up.   
"I should get going. Maybe Trieze will have cooled off by now..."  
  
Duo nodded slightly, looking out at the deserted building. Since all   
the machines had been shut off and it would have been impractical to   
start them back up for only a few hours worth of time, the six   
operators had been released back to their barn, as Duo referred to   
it. Night was quickly falling, however, and soon the other field   
hands would come shuffling in under Trieze's watchful eye.   
  
Fumbling through his pockets for his massive key ring, Wufei smiled   
slightly at Duo before leaving, making sure to securely lock the   
door. Duo had never thought to impose upon Wufei for freedom, but it   
suddenly occurred to him how easy it would be to make a run for it,   
assisted by Wufei.  
  
They had Hilde, though, and that thought alone successfully smashed   
whatever temptations he might have about leaving. Although he called   
Hilde his sister, she was really only a close childhood friend, both   
having lived in the same orphanage until sold into slavery. It was   
common practice to sell orphans when money or space ran low.   
  
Hilde had been bought by the Peacecrafts, but Duo had gone to a   
different estate before finally ending up here, no doubt after some   
careful influencing from Hilde.  
  
No sooner had Wufei left than the door opened once more by his hand,   
leading in the boy Duo recognized from the morning as Heero. Heero   
wore the same homespun as all the rest of the slaves, however, and   
he had a gleaming ring in one ear. On reflex, Duo lifted a hand to   
his own copper ring.  
  
Wufei whispered something to Heero and left once again, no doubt to   
check on Trieze's temperament. Heero looked around as if lost, but   
his eyes locked on Duo's in grateful recognition. Duo smiled as   
brilliantly as he could and waved the boy over.  
  
As Heero neared, Duo could see the gold glimmering of his earring.   
Gold? What the bloody hell?  
  
"Hey," Duo said to cover up his stare, offering another little   
half-wave. Heero stoically nodded back, sitting on the floor and   
looking around expectantly. "I guess the Lady took a liking to you,   
if you managed to get some gold out of it," Duo said lightly, trying   
to humor the serious looking boy.  
  
To his surprise, Heero's face darkened at the words and Duo barely   
caught him mutter, "You've obviously never met Lady Relena."  
  
Interrupting further conversing was the rush of air and bodies as the   
door swung open to allow the rest of the field hands entrance. Since   
it was Thursday and they all only bathed on Sunday, the smell was   
interesting, to say the least. Trieze glared darkly out at them all,   
Wufei standing by his side with downcast eyes. Duo felt a pang of   
worry for his friend and mentally wished him good luck.  
  
"Settle down! Sleep, you bloody bastards," Trieze growled, kicking   
the nearest slave to punctuate his words. The boy scrambled off,   
shooting a glare to the slave master's back and careful not to be   
seen doing so.  
  
Catching the glare, Wufei spoke in a soft but powerful voice, "Show   
respect for Master Trieze." Heads turned as the snap of leather rang   
out as punishment was swiftly delivered by Trieze. Duo stopped   
himself from staring at his friend, who did not look pleased with   
having been the instrument of Trieze's cruel operations.  
  
  
"Is it true, then?"  
  
Duo looked to Heero in surprise and made a wonderfully articulate   
response: "Huh?"  
  
"One of you got caught in the machines."  
  
"Yes, how did you know?" Duo asked in amazement. Then he thought   
about it for a few seconds and added, "Wait, someone told you. Of   
course something like that can't be kept secret."  
  
"Well, yes, I was told. You also have blood all down your front."  
  
Duo glanced down and laughed slightly, "Oh, yeah."  
  
Amazingly, Heero broke out into a little smile as well. Duo scrubbed   
at the stains with the damp rag he'd been using on Wufei, but dried   
blood wasn't inclined to be removed that easily. "Oh well. I'll ask   
Wufei to get me a new set of clothes tomorrow or something."  
  
"Lights out!" Trieze roared, turning on one heel and all but stomping   
out. Wufei followed almost timidly, closing and locking the door   
behind him. Instantly the room was submerged into almost complete   
darkness.  
  
There was a massive shuffled of bodies and fabric as all the slaves   
laid down and curled into their blankets. Heero realized that he   
still didn't have a blanket and settled on to the straw floor with a   
slight sigh. Not that he needed the flimsy scrap of wool, but it   
would have been nice to have.  
  
"Here," Duo whispered suddenly, moving daringly close to Heero and   
tossing half the blanket over him. Heero was so stunned by the action   
that all he could do for a few moments was breath, feeling the warmth   
slowly spread over his skin.  
  
"Thank you," Heero whispered back, startling even himself with the   
amount of sincerity in his voice.   
  
  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*End*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
Author's Notes: Woohoo, I got this out MUCH faster than I would have   
thought! Wow, it's three in the morning. Oops... I'll probably do my   
homework tomorrow... (yeah, right!) Can I dare hope to finish chapter   
six by Monday? OoooOOOoooOOO....*waves hands mysteriously*  
Let's see, I feel as if I should say something...hmm...  
  
Do not microwave body parts.  
  
Feedback/reviews are very much appreciated! More chapters soon.  
copyright 2002 - Gundam Wing and characters copyright other people.  
LSE - "Violet" (ManzokuBiscuit@aol.com)  
Email me to join my Update ML (be alerted when I add new stories)  
www.geocities.com/manzokubiscuit/index.html 


	6. Cleansing

LSE // 9-22-02  
(Enslaving the Heart - Chapter Six: Cleansing)  
rated: R - adult language, content  
shounen-ai/extreme AU  
  
  
Cleansing  
  
  
  
  
  
Hilde lifted the heavy dress from the wardrobe and held it out for   
Lady Relena, "The blue compliments your eyes, milady."  
  
"No, I don't want the blue. The rose dress, Hilde. The one with the   
cream ribbons," Relena smiled slightly at the image of herself in the   
dress, which was one of her favorites.  
  
"Excellent choice, milady," Hilde replied with finely toned respect   
and awe. The dress having been selected, the petticoats, overskirts   
and stockings were removed from their respective drawers and arranged   
upon the edge of Relena's bed. "Do you want the silk slippers to   
match, milady?"  
  
"The cream ones, not the pink." Relena walked over and took her place   
beside the bed, arms held out like a porcelain doll. Hilde and   
another attendant, Mariemaia, carefully dressed their mistress,   
careful not to make a single mistake. Hilde had once witness Relena's   
wrath upon a careless seamstress who had pierced Relena's skin with   
her needle.  
  
Sufficiently dressed, Relena glided across the large bedchamber to   
take a seat in front of her vanity mirror. She half turned her head   
to catch Hilde and Mariemaia in a fierce glare as she lifted her fine   
bonded hands. Instantly, Hilde realized their mistake and all but ran   
over to slip the white kid gloves on Relena. She noted absently that   
they were cream with rose edging.  
  
Please don't let her flog me, Hilde thought frantically, lowering   
into a deep curtsy as she murmured apologies.  
  
Surprisingly, Relena smiled benevolently and waved them away. Greatly   
relieved, Hilde took up position in a corner with Mariemaia, doing   
her best to look equally chastised and fearful. Appearances were what   
kept one alive in service to Lady Relena Peacecraft.  
  
The bedchamber doors swung open to admit Madame Noin, followed by the   
timid hairdresser, Cassinilla, who looked about ready to hide under   
the bed to escape Relena's scorn. Today, however, the young mistress   
seemed to be in a rather pleasant mood as she all but ignored the   
fearful slave.  
  
"Milady, the letter from your brother has arrived," Noin said in a   
carefully guarded tone. Hilde had seen her cast eyes on the   
Peacecraft lord and was greatly amused by the woman's attempts as   
secrecy.  
  
Relena eagerly held her hand out and took the letter, pausing to run   
a finger over the wax seal before breaking it. She quickly scanned   
over the contents without letting her head move, much to Cassinilla's   
relief. Once her hair was brushed and woven with the small, twin   
braids she favored, Mariemaia supplied a matching ribbon which the   
hairdresser used to tie back the small braids.  
  
"I want the diamonds today," Relena said with a glint in her eyes   
Hilde found most unsettling. Mariemaia dutifully opened the large   
velvet jewelry box and took out a pair of diamond earbobs, displaying   
them briefly for Relena's approval before attaching them through the   
lobes on her ear. On reflex, Hilde reached up to touch her own silver   
earring, wondering how the diamond earbobs would look on her.  
  
"My brother will be returning for the Harvest Festival," Relena said   
brightly, looking to Noin as Mariemaia adorned her with the matching   
necklace and bracelets. "I want everything in perfect condition for   
him. Refurnish his old rooms into pristine condition, blue and gold   
with copper accents. Spare no expense," Relena added thoroughly, her   
excited clearly visible.  
  
Noin nodded, curtsying slightly as Relena stood and moved away from   
the ministrations of Cassinilla, who gratefully retreated to the   
corner with Hilde and Mariemaia.   
  
The Lady admired herself in the looking glass for a moment, patting   
her golden hair and smoothing out the silk of her gown. "Bring me the   
new slave, Heero."  
  
"Milady?"  
  
"Bring me Heero, and then go see Mistress Po about your terrible   
hearing problems!" Relena snapped, nervous impatience shooting out   
from her crystalline eyes. Hilde silently thanked the powers that be   
she didn't have Noin's job.  
  
"Yes...milady," Noin said in a soft whisper, leaving the room like a   
whipped puppy, but Hilde saw the slight anger glint across the   
Madame's features.  
  
Relena waved her hand in dismissal to the three attendants in the   
corner, "Remove yourselves for the morning."  
  
Gratefully, the three of them filed out and into relative freedom.   
Cassinilla had other duties to attend to besides Relena's hair, most   
of them being menial housekeeping, but Hilde and Mariemaia's only job  
was attending to violate Relena. They escaped back up to their shared   
room, giggling slightly with the knowledge of poor Heero's fate.   
Whoever this Heero boy was...  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
No sooner had he settled into rhythm with Sarilyn and the dishes,   
Noin appeared in the kitchen and caused quite a stir, snapping at   
anyone who dared place a toe out of line. Sarilyn didn't pause in her   
washing as her assistant was led away, but a little disappointment   
trailed across her face at the loss of a good pair of hands. The   
dishes would take twice as long, now.  
  
Heero, for his part, felt apprehensive about meeting with Lady Relena   
again and was not looking forward to it. He was mildly tempted to   
grab a vase of the nearest table and smash it over Noin's head to   
gain a brief flight. Maybe they would have him flogged. Flogging   
suddenly seemed appealing compared to the monster that lurked in...  
  
Rose silk.  
  
"Milady," Noin said politely, turning and taking her prompt leave   
after having deposited Heero in Relena's parlor once more.  
  
Relena crossed her slim legs daintily at the ankles and seemingly   
ignored Heero, looking up after her point was made. "Hello, Heero,   
please have a seat," she said cordially, waving a gloved hand to the   
stuffed armchair beside her.  
  
After he had seated himself in the indicated chair, Relena seemed   
merely content to stare at him in hopes he would lift his eyes or   
move out of line and speak. Remembering well yesterday's encounter,   
Heero wisely locked eyes with the carpet and kept silent.  
  
Unfazed, Relena got up from her chair and walked over the fireplace,   
drifting her fingers across the stone mantle, "What am I to do with   
you, Heero? You're already marked for domestic work by your earring,   
but I suppose I could always have it changed to copper. Would you   
like that, Heero? There's an opening at one of the machines."  
  
"Whatever pleases milady," Heero said in perfect imitation of the   
dutiful servant.  
  
Relena scowled with intense disapproval and quickly closed the   
distance between them, grabbing Heero's chin and jerking his face up   
to meet hers. Heero found himself staring at her cleavage and quickly   
looked away, focusing on a spot somewhere around her forehead.  
  
"I bought you for a reason," she hissed, releasing his chin and   
backing away slightly, smoothing down the ruffled silk of her skirt.   
"Whatever you may think of me..." Relena drew her eyebrows down into   
a firm crease before quickly schooling her features into a far more   
pleasing arrangement.  
  
As if struck by a sudden inspiration, she crossed over to the door   
and tugged on the braided cord. The door opened to admit one of her   
attendants, a clever looking young woman with short cropped dark hair   
and coal black eyes.  
  
"Hilde, go and fetch Trowa from the stables. Quick, girl," Relena   
added, firmly closing the door in the girl's face. Heero jolted   
slightly at her mentioning Trowa. He was unsure of what Relena was   
doing, and he didn't like the feeling one bit.  
  
"You see Heero, I run this entire estate. There is no Lord Peacecraft,  
unless you count my brother. Me, a woman, a dainty Lady trained from   
birth to be like a vase. A pretty little vase," Relena whispered,   
stroking Heero's cheek with one finger.  
  
Heero had the most unnatural urge to rip the bloody finger off and   
shove it down Relena's throat. It would send him a painful death and   
forever destroy any hope of returning to his home, but at least it   
would feel really, really good.  
  
Presently, Hilde returned and led Trowa into the parlor. Hilde seemed   
to know what was going on by the manner in which she whispered   
something to Trowa that sounded like, "Good luck."  
  
Trowa's answering nod was barely noticeable and he and Hilde quickly   
parted as the Lady turned around. "Ah, Trowa," Relena all but purred,   
moving away from Heero to brush her skirts against his legs. She   
frowned slightly, taking in his disheveled form, "This won't do at   
all," she cried, backing away as if the boy had the pox.  
  
Emerald eyes blinked as Trowa looked down at his clothes, stained   
with hard work in the stables. The musky odor of horses and outdoor   
wafted off from him as he shrugged slightly and looked expectantly in   
Relena's general direction, careful not to look her in the eye.  
  
"Heero, come along," Relena called as if addressing a favorite dog as   
she led Trowa from the parlor and into her adjoining bedchamber.   
Crossing through that as well, she held upon the door to her bathroom   
and waved them both inside.  
  
Bending, she fetched two buckets from over near the impressive   
porcelain tub and handed them over. "Fill the tub with hot water   
from   
the kitchens. Hurry, and take the slave's passage," she added,   
knocking a wall panel to have it slide back and reveal a dark and   
twisting corridor.  
  
Heero followed Trowa, who at least seemed to know what was going on.   
He hurried to walk along side the boy, whose longer legs carried him   
at a much quicker stride. "Does she mean to bath you?" Heero asked   
with great curiosity.  
  
Trowa nodded slightly, glancing over in what looked like sympathy.   
Heero felt a responding rise of anger and they made the rest of the   
trip in silence. It took several trips to get enough water to satisfy   
Relena, and once they were through she ordered Trowa to take off his   
clothes and get in.  
  
Not wanting to intrude upon Trowa's privacy, Heero edged for the door.  
"Stay," Relena purred, nodding to an ottoman she had dragged in from   
the antechamber. Heero uneasily sat on the fluffed stool and fixed   
his eyes upon the floor, burning holes into the marble with his gaze.   
Relena stood over him for a few moments to signify she was in   
control, then went over and stood near the tub as Trowa knelt into   
the water, which barely rose to his waist.  
  
Relena sniffed at the cakes of soap along the cabinet and selected   
one, handing it over to Trowa with a smile, "Jasmine."  
  
Taking the soap from her, Trowa nodded and set to the task of washing   
under Relena's interested eye. Once Trowa had conjured up a decent   
lather, the Lady turned from the procedure and address Heero sharply,   
"Go and fetch a bucket if water for rinsing."  
  
Heero all but fled, grateful to leave the madness. Madness, madness!   
Bloody hell, did Relena intend to bath HIM as well? Heero debated   
fleeing right then and there, to hell with plans and consequences.   
No, it went against his training for him to act without thought.  
  
As he went further into the passage, the lingering fragrance of   
jasmine faded until all he could smell was reassuring dirt and stale   
air. Filth had never seemed so appealing...  
  
  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*End*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
Author's Notes: Woah, two in one day. Dare I try for three? It's not   
even three o' clock in the afternoon yet! (I've been up since nine...)  
Behold the power of Extreme Alternate Universe!  
And, yes, because you've been screaming for it, there WILL be 1x2x1   
action in this 'fic, I promise! Really! *hides from angry mob*  
I'm all sad, no reviews for chapter five yet. Aww... *sobs*  
  
Feedback/reviews are very much appreciated! More chapters soon.  
copyright 2002 - Gundam Wing and characters copyright other people.  
LSE - "Violet" (ManzokuBiscuit@aol.com)  
Email me to join my Update ML (be alerted when I add new stories)  
www.geocities.com/manzokubiscuit/index.html 


	7. Rose Silk Monster

LSE // 9-23-02  
(Enslaving the Heart - Chapter Seven: Rose Silk Monster)  
rated: R - adult language, content  
shounen-ai/extreme AU  
  
  
Rose Silk Monster  
  
  
  
  
  
Securing his braid back with one hand, Duo kept a careful eye on the   
machinery before him as he nimbly tied the ribbon with only the one   
hand. Originally, young girls worked with these textile-making steel   
giants, but their long hair would get caught far too often. Duo had no   
desire to see his braid ripped cleanly out of his skull like in the   
horror stories he'd heard from Hilde.  
  
Sneaking a quick look off from the dancing spindles before him, Duo   
scanned the row for Wufei, but he had yet to see his friend all day.   
That worried him greatly, especially considering the good mood Trieze   
seemed to be in. Since taking his eyes off his work could be fatal,   
Duo stopped looking for Wufei and focused back in on carefully   
plucking and maneuvering the threads.  
  
"Eyes on your work, Huer!" a familiar clipped voice shouted from the   
opposite end of the building. Duo quickly stole a glance to the side,   
feeling deep relief at seeing Wufei making his way slowly up the line.  
  
After a seemingly endless eternity, Wufei's shadow fell over Duo and   
the boy whispered, "Any smart ass remarks, Maxwell?"  
  
"None," Duo replied with a grin, setting one last thread and taking a   
brief break to look over his shoulder at Wufei.  
  
And promptly whirled back to furiously attack his work, trying to   
avoid staring at his friend. Wufei moved up beside him, reaching out   
to experimentally touch at the machine. "Careful," Duo warned, keeping   
one eye on his hands and another on Wufei's.  
  
Wufei nodded slightly and said in a bitter tone, "For what good would   
I be with just one arm."  
  
"I, uh, take it Trieze wasn't too pleased about that whole injustice   
thing?"   
  
Wufei half lifted a shoulder and let it fall in the barest of shrugs,   
but even that little movement caused a glimmer of pain to cross his   
face. "You could say that."  
  
Even obscured by the dim lighting of the building, Wufei clearly   
sported a puffy black eye which all but blocked vision for the   
unfortunate left eye. It off set the split lip nicely.  
  
"Cruel bastard!" Duo swore vehemently under his breath. Wufei inhaled   
sharply at the words and instinctively glanced around for Trieze, who   
was fortunately preoccupied with chewing some poor slave out for   
having a tear in his shirt.  
  
"Marks gained in the fight for justice seldom hurt," Wufei replied   
cryptically, receiving a short laugh from Duo in response. "Stop   
daydreaming, Maxwell, and show some progress!" Wufei barked in perfect   
imitation of Trieze's harsh tone as he moved on from observing Duo to   
joining the slave master over on the opposite side.  
  
Duo shook his head and focused back on his work, trying to quell the   
rising bits of anger directed towards Trieze the Bastard. He had the   
sudden mental image of Trieze caught up in one of the machines and   
grinned in response.  
  
-----------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Jasmine assaulted him immediately upon enter the bathroom and Heero   
was eager to set the bucket of water down and escape back to his   
corner. Trowa sat in the tub, head bowed, as Relena pointed to the boy   
and said, "Dump the water over him, Heero."  
  
Irrational anger gripped Heero and he tightened his grip on the bucket,  
fighting the urge to...  
  
Relena let out a shrill scream as Heero tossed the bucket of water   
into her face, the steamy contents instantly plunging down the front   
of her dress and over the rich silk skirts. Trowa looked up, emerald   
eyes wide and half obscured by a thick fall of his damp brown hair.   
  
Hardly able to believe what he had just done, Heero stood there   
holding the empty bucket and staring at Relena, event though he should   
have turned and fled down the passage.   
  
"You...YOU!" Relena wailed, looking as if she wanted to slap Heero   
full across the face. Instead, the Lady turned on a heel and dashes   
out into the bedchamber, throwing herself on to the corded rope.   
  
Relena stood there in her dripping, ruined gown, glaring darkly with   
eyes glinted of pure malice, but Heero caught the faintest pull of   
another emotion lurking beneath blue flames. ...Desire?  
  
"Twenty lashes," Relena shrieked, pointing an accusing finger to   
Heero. "Do it at noon and have all the slaves gathered to watch it.   
Twenty, No! Thirty lashes!" the Lady was screaming at this point. As   
it turned out, Noin was the one to answer the summons and hear these   
screeched orders.  
  
"With pleasure, milady."  
  
As he was dragged from the room, Heero couldn't help but feel it was   
worth it. He saw Trowa standing in the bathroom entrance, a towel   
wrapped around his waist. Their eyes met and Heero read the relief and   
gratitude radiating off Trowa.   
  
It was worth it.  
  
-----------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Instead of being led right back out to the machines after lunch, Duo   
and other four textiles workers were left in the barn (as he referred   
to it) until far past time to return to work. Not that Duo minded   
greatly. In fact, he used the time to open the brown package Wufei had   
delivered to him on behalf of Hilde.  
  
"Oh, Hil..." he whispered, folding back the paper to reveal brand new   
blanket, obviously knitted by hand. There was no way Trieze would let   
him keep it, but that was only if the slave master saw it. Duo   
carefully hid the knitted blanket under his ratty wool one. He paused,   
looking at the empty space beside his makeshift bed. The new boy,   
Heero, had a gold earring, but yet he slept in this disaster zone?  
  
Maybe they had run out of copper...?  
  
The five out them looked up expectantly as the oak door swung open to   
admit Wufei, who shot glares at them all as he closed the door back   
behind him firmly. Ignoring the curious questions shot at him, he   
crossed the room and stood over Duo, a grave look on his face.  
  
"Woah, Wu, someone needs to smile," Duo offered nervously, wondering   
if Trieze had sent Wufei in here on some twisted, quirky mission.   
  
"There's going to be a lashing," Wufei announced loud enough for all   
of them to hear, "and all the slaves are supposed to attend."  
  
"What? Take time off work and everything? Who is it, anyone I would   
know?" Duo asked, standing up and dusting the straw off his knees.  
  
Wufei nodded solemnly in return, his puffed out black eye making him   
look ridiculously foolish despite the firm attitude. "That new slave,   
Heero," Wufei said with a slight nod to the floor.  
  
"What?!" Duo shrieked a bit too loudly, almost positive his jaw has  
unhinged and landed on the floor. Heero's cobalt blue eyes flashed   
before him suddenly, and he was reminded of last night when they had   
shared his blanket. He'd taken a sudden liking to the new guy, for   
reasons known only to those Above and Below.  
  
"By Lady Peacecraft's order, he's to be given thirty lashes at noon in   
front of the entire estate."  
  
"Thirty?! Dear Mother, is she trying to kill him?"  
  
Wufei lowered his voice into a conspirator's whisper, "I heard that he   
dumped a bucket of water over her head."  
  
That caused Duo to laugh slightly despite the complete seriousness of   
the situation. He had never liked to see people in pain, even though   
he'd grown numb to it over the years. There was something different   
about receiving lashes than, saw, getting your arm caught up in a   
massive machine having it ripped from your body. At least it happened   
all at once and without warning. The lashes, however, they were   
delivered with a measured amount of inflicted pain and minute pauses   
in between, just enough so the victim would feel the burn of the   
leather in mere anticipation for the actual blow.  
  
"You're kidding," Duo said, finding it hard to believe that anyone, no   
matter how new, would willingly pissed Lady Relena off. He'd heard   
rumors and half-confirmed truths from Hilde, though, that made him   
doubt his own convictions. The girl was known to go a bit too far   
sometimes, according to Hilde.  
  
Wufei shook his head slowly and stepped away, his movements careful   
and guarded. "Get a move out! Move, move!" he yelled in another   
startling imitation of Trieze. Duo had to remind himself that beneath   
the harsh commands was his friend, but he was still deeply bothered by   
the fact that Wufei held a whip loosely in one hand, ready to snap out   
and make marks upon the back of some hapless slave.  
  
Silently, the small group of slaves, led by Wufei, emerged from their   
building for a destination besides work. They moved in a wide circle   
around the house and into the small yard so neatly manicured by Lady   
Relena's gardeners. Apparently she found the need to have all the   
slaves witness Heero's back being flayed open greater than the need to   
have a perfect garden.   
  
So far only the house slaves were gathered around the whipping post,   
and Heero himself, star of the show, had yet to arrive. Duo started to  
slip away from his small group in hopes of finding Hilde, but an angry   
shout from Wufei stopped him. Sincere apology echoed out from his   
friend's dark eyes, for the pseudo-Trieze knew exactly why Duo was   
edging away from his group.  
  
"Don't even think about running," Wufei snarled to them as a whole,   
but specifically aiming his words to Duo. Then, he carefully turned   
away as if looking for Trieze, removing his eyes just enough to where   
everyone but Duo was within sight.  
  
Breathing a silent thank you to his friend, Duo glared warningly at   
his fellow slaves and merged deeply into the silent crowd of house   
slaves. They seemed to be divided in some mysterious way, arranged   
subtly into groups. Going by the dirt and straw on the slaves around   
him, not to mention the wafting odor, he must have found those that   
work in the stables. Hilde was one of Lady Relena's attendants, would   
she even be here yet?   
  
Since he knew Wufei was taking a big risk for his own selfish   
indulgences, Duo shuffle his way back through the crowd and took up   
position at the edge of his original little group. Wufei caught the   
movement from the corner of his eye and visible relief crossed over   
his face before being schooled back into stoic impatience.  
  
On the other side of the ring of slaves, Trieze showed up with the   
remaining field hands, who looked happy enough to be away from work.   
Duo wanted to go over and slap each and every one of them, screaming   
to them that there was nothing entertaining about one of their own...  
  
"Why do you care so much?" Wufei muttered softly under his breath,   
edging up close to Duo while at the same time looking casual when   
doing so.   
  
"Why do you?" Duo whispered back, not liking how his friend just spoke   
his own thoughts out loud. Why did he care so much if one slave   
received the lash for something so obviously deserving, like dumping   
water on a lady?  
  
Small bits of anger glinted from Wufei's dark eyes as he whispered   
under his breath in a voice so soft Duo might have missed it had he   
not been anticipating the reply. "Slavery as whole is an injustice."  
  
  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*End*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
Author's Notes: Wow, I need three-day weekends more often! ^^ Yay, I   
got some more feedback! ::happy dance:: 1321, of course it was because   
of your email! I'm always one to listen to the readers when they make   
really good suggestions. Which goes to all the rest of you, too! Hey,   
I need to send the Update ML *runs off to do that and write more*  
  
Feedback/reviews are very much appreciated! More chapters soon.  
copyright 2002 - Gundam Wing and characters copyright other people.  
LSE - "Violet" (ManzokuBiscuit@aol.com)  
Email me to join my Update ML (be alerted when I add new stories)  
www.geocities.com/manzokubiscuit/index.html 


	8. Interrupted

LSE // 9-25-02  
(Enslaving the Heart - Chapter Eight: Interrupted)  
rated: R - language, content, violence  
shounen-ai/extreme AU  
  
  
Interrupted  
  
  
  
  
  
The short wooden post stood cemented in the center of the garden,   
which had obviously sprung up around the structure instead of the   
other way around. "Most whippings were not done in front of an   
audience," Mariemaia, one of Lady Relena's attendants whispered, her   
pale blue eyes glinting with an odd sort of excitement.  
  
"Must you be so rude?" the other attendant, Hilde, said with a hushing   
motion. Relena didn't look up from her quiet conversation with Trieze   
concerning Heero's fate.  
  
Heero stared down at the iron bands laid across his wrists and tried   
to gather himself. From her place beside Relena, Noin seemed to   
radiate intense pleasure at seeing Heero once more in shackles. "I   
want thirty," Relena said loudly.  
  
"Milady, surely twenty will suffice," Trieze said gruffly with a look   
to the gathered slaves.   
  
"Do you question my judgment?" Relena screeched, looking for all the   
world like she wanted to snatch the whip from the slave master's hand   
and use it to full force.  
  
"No, milady," Trieze was quick to say, trying hard to maintain some   
dignity before his petite mistress. "Thirty it is, then."  
  
Satisfied, Relena turned in a flurry of skirts and stalked her way   
over to the edge of the muddy circle surrounding the post, pausing to   
wait for one of her attendants to rush forward and lay a square of   
silk down for her to walk on. Mariemaia and Hilde laid out the white   
patches before Relena's silk slippers, creating a path over to the   
spot she had selected to watch from.  
  
Heero was left standing there before the post and he slowly raised his   
eyes to look at the wooden monstrosity. Anticipating Trieze's command,   
he knelt beside the post and laid his shackled hands upon it. His   
shirt lay neatly set aside in the mud.  
  
"Do you accept your punishment so easily, boy?"   
  
When Heero didn't reply, Trieze shouted for his minion, the lithe   
Wufei, who came out from the circle of slaves to stand beside Heero.   
"Master Trieze?" Wufei asked with a slight hint of insubordination,   
much to Heero's, and apparently Trieze's, shock.  
  
Trieze glared at the boy until he offered out a strip of leather to   
Heero, who gratefully nodded and clumsily accepted it as best he could   
with iron trapped hands. Placing the leather in his mouth, he   
carefully tucked his tongue aside and bit down hard enough to press   
into the leather. He laid his hands back to the post and nodded ever   
so slightly to Wufei, who stepped away and nodded in turn to Trieze.  
  
The slave master raised his whip and looked to his mistress, Lady   
Relena, for the word.  
  
"For an insult upon the nobility and esteem of a Lady of the Highest   
Order, Heero of Peacecraft Manor shall receive thirty lashes of whip,   
to be administered before the Gods, the Lady who he so offended and   
his fellow slaves. The lashes shall be administered by Trieze   
Kushrenada, a freeman in employment of the Peacecrafts," Lady Relena   
intoned, her cultured voice filled with bitter anger as she read aloud   
the official notice from the paper prepared for her by Noin.  
  
Heero rested his forehead on his hands and waited for the first blow,   
willing his eyes to close and his vocal cords to remain silent. He   
wouldn't give the bitch the satisfaction.  
  
The first thought that blasted through his head when the stroke of the   
whip snapped across his back was the knowledge that the whip was   
tipped with metal. The second thought was Trieze certainly knew his   
business. A collective murmur rose from the gathered slaves, many of   
whom had never seen nor felt the whip.  
  
"One," Relena called out in a pleasant voice, almost as if she was   
counting lumps of sugar in her tea.  
  
"Two."  
  
Could he lunge off the post and swing the heavy iron shackles into   
Trieze's face before anyone could react? True, he would be caught   
eventually, but maybe he could get off a solid blow before...  
  
"Three."  
  
Pain broke off any further though as his singularly focused his mind   
on remaining composed. Let Relena count her lumps, let Noin gloat, and   
let Trieze...  
  
"Four."  
  
Disjointedly came relief that he had removed his shirt, because it   
seemed unlikely it would have survived past...  
  
"Five," Relena didn't sound so sure of herself anymore. Heero had   
heard somewhere that she once refused a call from the King himself to   
send arms because of her belief in peace. Fucking peace to you, too,   
Lady Relena, may you burn in...  
  
"Six."  
  
Heero almost lost his grip on the post as the tipped leather came down   
across a previous welt, but he resolutely held on and bit down hard   
into the leather between his teeth.   
  
"Seven," called Noin's voice when the Lady failed to speak.  
  
The air above him stirred as the whip began its journey down, and   
suddenly he heard Relena shout, "Stop!"  
  
The blow landed softly on his back, the leather curling over his   
shoulders as Trieze and most of the congregation began to mutter under   
their collective breathes. "Stop this at once," Relena cried, her   
voice no longer gloating. She sounded near tears.  
  
"Milady?"  
  
Gathering herself, Relena did her best to glare in response to Trieze's  
scornful tone. "You're getting blood on my garden," she said primly, a   
rustle of skirts signaling movement.   
  
"Mark the lashes as received in full, Noin. Trieze, send all the   
slaves to their respective sleeping areas until dinner. Let them dwell   
on what has taken place here. The consequences for their actions,"   
Relena said forcefully, in case anyone mistook her lapse of mercy for   
weakness.  
  
"Milady," Noin and Trieze murmured in varying degrees of   
disappointment. Somehow, Heero perceived his was not the only   
punishment their Lady had interfered with. He resisted the urge to   
feel gratitude to the snotty young woman, but his traitorous back felt   
most relieved when the leather and cold metal tips were removed from   
his skin for the last time.  
  
Shaking away the offered hand up from Wufei, Heero stood on his own   
power and took out of the leather scrap wedged betwixt his jaws. A row   
of firmly pressed teeth marks were plainly visible on the piece as he   
offered it out to Trieze, much to the slave master's displeasure.  
  
"Be lucky you've got milady twisted about your little finger," Trieze   
snarled as he turned to herd the field hands back to their building.   
If there was one person Heero did not want twisted about any part of   
his anatomy, it would be Lady Relena.  
  
The slaves lingered around for a few moments, whispering amongst   
themselves and enjoying their brief freedom, if only fleeting and   
imagined. Eventually they were ushered back to their sleeping quarters,  
as per Relena's orders, which no one looked terribly broken up about.   
Heero felt an odd since of pride, for he had given all the slaves the   
day off...but why did he care? Their well-being was no concern of his.  
  
Walking stiffly over to the scrap of cloth that was his shirt, Heero   
bent and collected the item, looking it over for damage. Besides some   
mud and a well placed footprint, it was still wearable. He started to   
put it back on, another look at the mud caused a quick rethinking of   
that idea.   
  
Turning to go, Heero was stopped by a hand at his elbow, jerking him   
back suddenly. "Let go," he muttered, pulling away, but the hand clung   
resiliently on. Finally, he looked back to see who was interfering and   
froze, finding himself pinned by Noin's dark glare.  
  
"You owe me twenty-three," she whispered in a low, threatening tone.  
  
"And you owe me a new shirt," Heero said on impulse, shoving the muddy   
garment at Noin. The Madame looked merely shocked, but he saw another   
emotion float across her face -- amusement? Then from nowhere, Noin's   
hand flew trough the space between them, connecting solidly.   
  
In his surprise, Heero slipped in the mud and went crashing down, much   
to Noin's amusement. Bitch. He only owed her twenty-two! That last one   
counted ... was his last thought before head and ground firmly met and   
stopped any further debate.  
  
  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*End*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
Author's Notes: No more weekend, aww. Fortunately, there's another one   
coming soon! I get to go see "Grave of the Fireflies" tomorrow, YES!   
(for those of you who don't know, it's a really awesome anime movie.   
Very sad. Very inspiration for angst writing!) Well, that had nothing   
to do with "Enslaving the Heart"...  
I'm starting to get worried! Or maybe just spoiled... Please, if you've   
been reading the story so far, sign a review and let me know.   
Or email me (ManzokuBiscuit@aol.com) or if you have AIM feel free to   
IM me!  
I'm seriously thinking of putting this on the back burner and working   
on more rewarding 'fics. It's not that I don't love the story, its   
just I'm concerned about what you, the readers, think about it. No,   
don't mistake this for a threat, I'll keep writing even if there are   
no more new reviews... Do you want me to stay with "Enslaving the   
Heart" or work on something else? Please let me know!  
  
  
Feedback/reviews are very much appreciated! More chapters soon.  
copyright 2002 - Gundam Wing and characters copyright other people.  
LSE - "Violet" (ManzokuBiscuit@aol.com)  
Email me to join my Update ML (be alerted when I add new stories)  
www.geocities.com/manzokubiscuit/index.html 


	9. Tender Rage

LSE // 10-2-02  
(Enslaving the Heart - Chapter Nine: Tender Rage)  
rated: R - language, content, violence  
shounen-ai/extreme AU  
  
  
Tender Rage  
  
  
  
  
  
The first clear thought to reach him was straw lacked appealing   
flavoring. The second was a bit curious as to why he was tasting   
straw. Grabbing consciousness firmly, Heero delved through a hazy   
confusion and into startling clarity.  
  
And pain.  
  
"Hey, you're awake," came a soft whisper above him, toned low and   
comforting.  
  
"Logically," Heero tried to say, but it came out more of, "loshineee."  
  
The voice above him laughed as he tried to spit out some of the   
straw. "Sorry about that, I hadn't thought to put anything down for   
you. Here," it offered, scooting a scrap of cloth under his face that   
Heero recognized as his poor shirt.  
  
He was laying stretched out on his stomach, and he almost started to   
flip on to his back when a completely unpleasant sensation stopped   
that idea dead. Belatedly, the voice warned, "Hey, don't try and   
move. Wu, can I get some kinda alcohol? Or water..."   
  
Heero finally placed the voice and peered up through the obstruction   
of his bangs at Duo, who sat beside him. Which meant he was laying on   
the floor of the field hands' building. For a moment he was deeply   
contemplative of whether stable straw would taste better, but the   
debate was moot and quite foolish, so he dropped it at once.  
  
"Alcohol? Nice try," Wufei said from somewhere up above him.   
  
Heero didn't like the idea of him just laying there, especially since   
his shirt was no longer on him. Rather, he was on it. Ignoring Duo's   
protests, he hauled himself into a sitting position. Fire laced up   
and around his back with great force, but he willfully disregarded   
the pain and focused on...  
  
"Hell below!" Duo screeched, all but shoving Heero back down to the   
ground. "You'll make them start bleeding again! Bloody hell, I know   
it hurts you, I can see it quite plainly in your eyes!"  
  
That statement so alarmed Heero that he let his careful guard drop,   
and the overwhelming pain caused him to stop resisting Duo's frantic   
shoves. See it in his eyes? Once more hugging the dirt, Heero   
breathed a silent curse to Lady Relena Peacecraft and tried to get   
the ground to stop moving.  
  
"I'll be fine once it stops," he tried to say rationally to Duo, but   
the statement came out rather muttered.  
  
"Here, Maxwell. Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Wufei   
announced, a thump of a water bucket being set down heralding his   
return. "If Master Trieze sees you..."  
  
"Well, he'll just have to look the other way. Farging hell bitch   
Noin. What possessed her to do that? Gods above, look at the mud just   
caked in there!"  
  
"That is perfectly disgusting," Wufei observed with an air of   
detachment. It wasn't his back. "What are you going to do?"  
  
"Wash the mud out, first of all."  
  
"That looks like it'd hurt."  
  
"Well, that's what I was hoping the use the alcohol for..."  
  
Heero felt a little dizzy at the idea of anything touching the fiery   
hell raging across his back. He firmly pushed aside the mere notion   
of pain and soon the flames were only a muted background. He   
channeled his fury into a small little ball and imagined the flames   
being fed into it. Then, he hurled the little orb of hate and pain in   
Relena's direction. Quite satisf...  
  
Sucking in a sharp lung full of air, Heero barely avoided yelling as   
Duo scrubbed at his back with a cool, damp cloth. He did, however,   
noticeably flinch at even that slightest touch, causing Duo to draw   
back fro, him a bit hesitantly.  
  
"Does it hurt much?"  
  
Fuck yeah.   
  
"No," he said, trying to act like he hadn't just freaked out of a   
little bit of cloth and water. "You don't have to do that," Heero   
said quickly, before Duo could once more provoke the chaos of his   
back.   
  
"Can you reach around and scrub all this mud out?" Duo asked coldly,   
a little offended but mostly embarrassed. Just shut up and let me do   
you a favor, he wanted to shout, but refrained from doing so.   
  
To his surprise, however, Heero once more hauled himself into a   
sitting position and plucked the cloth from Duo's grasp. Carefully   
trying to conceal how much even that little movement hurt, Heero   
began to twist his arm back to lay the cloth across his back. The   
muscles in his back and shoulder knotted, firmly refusing to take and   
further action until the skin and nerves stopped screaming with   
righteous pain.  
  
"Okay, okay, you've proven your point!"  
  
Heero lingered for a few moments, carefully avoiding Duo's eyes in   
case the other boy could see the pain in them. He offered the rag   
back to him but remained sitting. Seeing Heero was no longer set on   
dooming himself into a fiery torment, Duo accepted the rag and   
visibly calmed down a bit.  
  
"You have admirable tolerance for pain," Wufei muttered from his   
place looming above them.  
  
"Yes, let's all marvel at Heero's wonderful ability to throw his body   
into spasms of pain without even caring."  
  
To his great surprise, Heero smiled slightly at Duo's comment. Their   
eyes met and held, and no doubt they would have sat there staring   
into each other's depths for quite some time had Wufei not   
interrupted to warn them, "Master Trieze is coming."  
  
Duo broke the stare and looked up, clearly startled, at his friend.   
"How do you know?"  
  
"Can't you hear him?" Wufei replied, pleased with having displayed a   
little talent of his own. He turned and started walking towards the   
opposite end of the building just as the door boomed open to admit a   
not too happy Trieze.  
  
"Wufei!" he barked, eyes locking at once onto his lackey. Wufei's   
eyes registered surprise for a brief moment before he turned and   
approached the looming slave master. Heero couldn't hear the   
conversation over the general shuffling of the field hands, each one   
trying to inconspicuously move away from Trieze.  
  
When Trieze was unhappy, everyone was unhappy.  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"Milady..."  
  
Relena whirled away from the nightstand, her ice blue eyes flashing   
coldly as she locked targeting on the Madame stand there before her.   
"What? What could you possibly have to say, Noin? What in the name of   
all that's holy do you want to say now?"  
  
"Your tea is here, milady," Noin said with a slight hint of smugness,   
stepping aside to display the quivering serving maid with the said   
tray.  
  
Fighting the urge to slap Noin's face off, Relena narrowed her eyes   
only slightly as she replied, "Then set it on the table and be gone.   
Or would you rather I take my tea in the parlor, since you always   
seem to know what is better for me than even myself!"  
  
Noin's cheeks flushed red as she turned away and nodded sharply to   
the serving maid, who rushed forward to set the tray upon the nearest   
table. The maid all but ran in her haste to escape from the enraged   
Relena, who stood staring out the window with a deep scowl across her   
face. Anger, no doubt, at having appeared weak before her servants   
and slaves.   
  
"Send one of them to me," Relena said with a sigh, turning away from   
the window and fixing Noin with her eyes. "Anyone will do."  
  
"Yes, milady."  
  
When the chamber door had shut at last, Relena walked forward to the   
window and looked out at her estate. Her estate... Relena closed her   
eyes and let the words roll through her mind. The estate was hers,   
she was the Lady Peacecraft, the title solely belonging to her, since   
there was no Lord Peacecraft to share her bed.   
  
Of course, there was Lord Millard Peacecraft, her elder brother and   
by all rights Lord of the estate. Her fingers curled slightly,   
mentally grabbing at the velum document which set the title upon her   
shoulders and not her brother's. In her father's hand, since neither   
had known at the time that Millard lived...  
  
Not that Relena worried her cherished brother would dare contest her   
right to the estate. He was gone so much, it simply wouldn't be   
practical. Millard had never expressed any desire to take the estate   
from her, in fact the subject was rarely mentioned between them.  
  
Relena felt a flitter of excitement at the idea of seeing her brother   
once more. How long had it been since the last time Millard had been   
at the estate? Nearly a year this time, since he had left with the   
spring thaw. Relena hummed a waltz, imagining the grand balls and   
feats she would throw for her brother. She would show him and the   
whole world that she, a young woman, could run and managed her lands   
just as fine as any Lord.  
  
"Milady," came a soft call from the door.  
  
She turned, for an instant forgetting she had ordered Noin to send a   
slave up to her. She nearly laughed when she saw who the clever   
Madame had sent. "Ah, Quatre, come in," Relena said calmly, making no   
move to leave her spot by the window.  
  
The small blonde nervously entered, no doubt having picked up some of   
the earlier spouts of anger. Relena gestured with one hand to the   
tray of tea sitting timidly on a small table, "Two lumps, no cream.   
Quatre, don't look so...scared. I'm not going to throw the tea at   
you."  
  
"Of course, milady," the boy said with a blush, stepping away from   
the door and towards the relative safety by the tea tray.  
  
Relena glided over and watched as he evenly poured and prepare her   
tea just as she liked. When he offered out the cup, she took it and   
promptly set it back on the tray. "Milady...?" Quatre started to ask   
in confusion, but Relena took up his hands, drawing his silence.  
  
"How long has it been, Quatre, since I have heard you play?" she   
murmured, holding the soft, fine boned hands to her face. Quatre   
froze beneath her touch, scarcely daring to breath. "Relax," she   
snapped, then instantly recanted her hard tone with a whispered   
apology.  
  
The boy's sea green eyes widened slightly as she pressed his hands   
into the swell of her bosom. "Quatre, hold me," she caressed the   
words out so they sounded less like an order and more like a common   
lover's plea. He obediently slid his hands down to her waist,   
cautiously pulling her to him.   
  
Relena pressed herself against him, leaned forward slightly to catch   
the lobe of his ear into her mouth, sucking gently upon the ring of   
gold she found there. "It's been far too long," she whispered in   
answer to her earlier question, pulling away slightly to reach up and   
stroke her fingers down his cheek.  
  
"Milady," Quatre started to say, eyes darting away as he struggled to   
look anywhere but on her face.  
  
"Shh," she said firmly, taking one of his hands and guiding it back   
on her breast. She slid the unresisting hand between the fabric of   
her gown and the warm glow of her skin, guiding his fingers down   
across her nipple, which tensed in reaction.   
  
"Don't speak."  
  
  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*End*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
Author's Notes: Thank you so, so much for letting me know how you feel  
about this story! I am now more resolved then ever to see this through  
to the end. O_o what do you think about the funky little Rx4? Yeah...  
it scares me, too. I tried to give a little insight into Relena's mind  
in this chapter, but most of my readers have expressed anti-Relena   
tendencies, so I don't think its really a problem if she comes off   
as...evil in this story. (muah!)  
I got a new computer, which makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. I can   
now listen to MP3s! *victory dance of joy*  
Uhm, yeah I'm rambling. Gomen ^^()   
  
Yaoi guaranteed!  
  
Feedback/reviews are very much appreciated! More chapters soon.  
copyright 2002 - Gundam Wing and characters copyright other people.  
LSE - "Violet" (ManzokuBiscuit@aol.com)  
Email me to join my Update ML (be alerted when I add new stories)  
www.geocities.com/manzokubiscuit/index.html 


	10. Looking Through Glass

LSE // 10-6-02  
(Enslaving the Heart - Chapter Ten: Looking Through Glass)  
rated: R - language, content, violence  
shounen-ai/extreme AU  
  
  
Looking Through Glass  
  
  
  
  
  
Before the first rays of dawn could stretch through the curtains to   
dance across his face, Wufei was awake and orientating himself. In the   
quiet of the early morning, he listened to sound of Trieze's soft,   
regular breathing. The slave master still slept, giving Wufei precious   
time to slide out from the bed and enjoy a few moments to himself.  
  
Dressing quickly, he kept one eye cautiously on Trieze and focused the   
other eye inward in meditation. The practice was forbidden by Trieze,   
the simple act being perceived as a tie to the Old ways, the ways of   
the Wilds. As soon as the slumbering man showed the barest signs of   
waking, Wufei leapt to his feet and slipped out into the predawn light.  
  
The walk was a peaceful one, for most of the manor still slept, the   
only souls awake being himself and the kitchen staff. It was there   
that he went, carrying a single bucket to fill with hot water. He   
always enjoyed the warmth and cheer of the kitchen, where the slaves   
worked hard but were spared the whip.   
  
Mistress Holt ignored him as she always did, pretending she didn't see   
him taking some of her heated water. As always, his visit to kitchen   
was over before the chill could empty from his bones, and he was once   
more out into the semidarkness. Trieze's quarters were attached into   
the back of the main house, nestled into the corner of the ground   
floor.   
  
Trieze was gone from the bed when Wufei arrived, the man no doubt gone   
to wake the field hands and line them up for the day's work. He knew   
he should go supervise the textile workers, but he hesitated in the   
relative calm of the empty room. This was his time, however short it   
might be.  
  
He longed for a mirror of some sort to check his face, for he was sure   
there was some mark upon it. Gingerly, closed and opened his left eye,   
feeling the swollen flesh protest. Unfortunate to have a black eye,   
especially since everyone would know where it came from. Usually   
Trieze was mindful enough not to leave marks.  
  
Wufei sighed and set the bucket of water down, looking out at the   
quiet manor just beginning to stir into life. Since Trieze wasn't   
around to need it, Wufei used the steaming water to wash his hands and   
face. Sharp eyes watched the water move around his fingers, a mind   
trained for years on the Old ways instantly seeing the beauty and   
serenity contained within the simple movement.  
  
The Old ways are gone, he reminded himself sternly. The Wilds are no   
longer my home. Wufei looked about the small room with eyes weighed   
with sadness, briefly allowing his careful guard to drop as he   
shuddered with sudden clarity. This was home.  
  
-----------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"That's the third pan you've dropped this morning," Sarilyn muttered   
accusingly, breaking her rhythm to glare daggers at her assistant   
washer. "You're likely to break one."  
  
Heero gave a noncommittal response and fetched the fallen dish in   
question, "No harm done."  
  
Sarilyn gave an angry sigh and took back up her ceaseless scrubbing.   
At this rate, he'd be likely to do her more harm than good. Suddenly,   
having an extra set of hands didn't have the appeal it did yesterday.  
  
For his part, Heero wasn't really trying to do badly, he just couldn't   
seem to get his fingers to cooperate. The fire had spread across his   
back and down through his arms, slightly numbing usually nimble digits.  
With Trieze sulking around, Duo had never gotten around to scrubbing   
all the mud away. Heero gave a slight shrug of one shoulder as a test   
and nearly dropped the plate he was washing.  
  
"If you've chipped that plate it's all your fault," Sarilyn warned a   
while later, looking up to watch the rogue dish rolling away from   
Heero's pile and making a brave run for freedom. She watched with a   
calculating eye as he labored up to his feet and gave chase to the   
rolling plate.  
  
When he'd settled back down with the retrieved dish, Sarilyn warily   
checked it for damage before adding it wordlessly to her stack. "It'll   
have to be washed again."  
  
Heero looked up at the accusatory tone in her voice and debated making   
excuses, but found he lacked the will or energy. Let her glare at me,   
he said to himself.  
  
Mercifully, he made it to the lunch break without any more mistakes.   
Sarilyn kept working, and Heero felt a twinge of guilt that she was   
trying to make up for him. She managed well enough without my help   
before, he rationalized, eliminating the guilt and going in search of   
his lunch.  
  
Lunch consisted of beef stew, which seemed to be the staple of the   
house slave's diet. He wondered what the field hand's ate, if they ate   
at all. Which led him to think about amethyst eyes and chestnut...  
  
"Heero!" called a cheerful voice, dragging Heero's attention out of   
memories and into reality. For brief a moment, he couldn't place a   
name to the brightly smiling face.  
  
"Quatre," he said, words slightly inclined in question.  
  
The boy nodded enthusiastically and motioned for Heero to sit in the   
empty spot across from him. Heero met the exposed emerald hue of the   
boy's friend, Trowa, and tried to banish the image the boy sitting   
naked in Relena's bathtub. Relena... Heero's eyes narrowed   
instinctively, causing Quatre to look confused for a moment.  
  
"Oh, does your back pain you?" Quatre asked at last, bit of triumph   
crossing his face at having puzzled out what he thought to be the   
cause of Heero's sudden glare.  
  
Since accepting the excuse so conveniently given to him was preferable   
to explaining anything, Heero nodded once and took up his spoon.   
  
"I think you were amazingly brave," Quatre said with honest   
admiration, "wasn't he, Trowa?"  
  
Trowa's lips twitched slightly into a brief smile, seeing for a moment   
the sight of Relena drenched from head to foot and looking brilliantly   
stunned. He wished he'd thought of doing that. Trowa nodded slightly,   
eyes meeting Heero's to exchange a small shard of understanding.  
  
"If the pain gets to be too bad I'm sure you can see Mistress Po about   
it. She's forever fixing little scraps and bumps among us. Trowa.   
Trowa, what was the name of that boy a while back, who broke his leg?   
Mistress Po set it right all fine and now you can't even tell he broke   
it at all! Trowa, what was the name?" the small blonde turned his head   
up to his companion, sea green eyes shining brightly.  
  
"Werin."  
  
"Werin, that's right. Does he still mind the stallions, or have they   
moved him on to gentle fare?"  
  
"Sold, actually. A month or two ago."  
  
"Oh," Quatre's face fell slightly and he sat quietly for a minute,   
thoughtfully chewing on the near tasteless stew. "Well, Mistress Po   
did do a fine job of it. Do you know where to find her? She's in the   
little house behind the main house, right there beside Madame Noin."  
  
Heero nodded absently, only half listening to Quatre's cheerily voice   
as the boy rambled on with pleasantries and nothings. He was   
distracted by the hint of nobility lingering within the boy's bubbling   
speech, a puzzling attribute for a violin-playing house slave.  
  
"I better get back to the kitchens," Heero said during a break in the   
conversation, which was mostly one sided anyway.   
  
"Take care," Quatre politely, but Heero was surprised to find a ring  
of sincerity within the tone. Strange people, all of them.  
  
As he made his way back to the kitchens, Heero was unaware of chilled   
blue eyes carefully watching his progress from the window. Hearing   
footsteps in the antechamber, Relena stepped away from the glass and   
let the curtains fall back. She resumed her spot settled into the   
stuffed chair there beside the window and picked back up her sewing,   
carefully adding another stitch to the embroidery.  
  
"Good afternoon, milady," Noin said with a bright smile as she entered   
with a flurry of self-importance.  
  
Relena added two more stitches before setting the piece aside and   
folding her hands in her lap, giving Noin a pleasant enough smile in   
return. The woman looked momentarily puzzled before crossing the pace   
between them and offering out the sealed letter in her hand, "Another   
letter from your brother, isn't that odd?"  
  
"He must have sent them out right after another," Relena mused aloud   
as she took the letter from Noin. Sliding a thumb under the seal she   
snapped the wax and carefully opened it, skimming over her brother's   
neat, scholarly script. "Oh!" she exclaimed, causing Noin to fiddle  
with her sleeves with impatience.  
  
"It seems my brother will be joining us sooner than thought! Oh, my,   
however will I get the manor in proper shape with only a fortnight's   
notice?" Relena tried to be angry with Millard, but excitement at   
seeing him again overruled any minor distress.  
  
"A fortnight? Does milord say why?"  
  
Her mistress smiled brightly and stood from her chair, waving the   
letter before Noin teasingly, "Why, yes he does say why. But is it any   
business of yours?" Relena laughed, moving away from Noin and towards   
the door, "He's in Serrai right now waiting for a ship to take him   
here. He must have mailed the letter as soon as he arrived. I wish I  
could write to ask for some lace..."  
  
"I'm sure milord will bring you very nice gifts from his travels."  
  
"No one sleeps until the manor is perfect. I want the wood polished,   
the carpets beaten and the whole house scrubbed, top to bottom. I want   
new clothes for all the slaves, but don't give them out yet or else   
they'll be ruined. Millard says he'll be here on the twenty-seventh,  
so we'll have a grand ball that Saturday..." Relena's voice faded as   
she moved from room to room, listing off everything that needed to be   
done. A sparkling glint came into her chilled eyes, warming them and,   
for a moment, she looked like a normal girl.  
  
  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*End*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
Author's Notes: hmm, rather uneventful chapter... *sigh* Sorry I could   
only get the one out this weekend. My new computer's completely up and   
running now, including a new monitor (I can SEE!) and keyboard.   
Hopefully I'll get use to the new keyboard and stop making so many   
typos. This story's lacking a beta, so there's nothing save me and my   
spell check to prevent idiotic mistakes. -_- uber-gomen, I hope the   
typos don't distract from the story too much...  
Yikes, chapter ten and I haven't even gotten into the actual plot.   
woo... this is gonna be kinda lengthy. O_o Fortunately I already have   
some understanding of where the story's going, it's just hard to move   
it along fast enough. The muses won't let me rush this. Damn them.  
Okay, so hopefully you won't have to wait until next Sunday to get a   
new chapter! O_o Take care.  
  
Feedback/reviews are very much appreciated! More chapters soon.  
copyright 2002 - Gundam Wing and characters copyright other people.  
LSE - "Violet" (ManzokuBiscuit@aol.com)  
Email me to join my Update ML (be alerted when I add new stories)  
www.geocities.com/manzokubiscuit/index.html 


	11. Incomplete Destination

LSE // 10-14-02  
(Enslaving the Heart - Chapter Eleven: Incomplete Destination)  
rated: R - language, content, violence  
shounen-ai/extreme AU  
  
  
Incomplete Destination  
  
  
  
  
  
The manor was a flurry of excitement as everything was prepared and   
perfected for Lord Millard's visit. Relena floated about in a cloud   
of benevolence, neglecting to snap at Noin or even the foolish   
behaviors of her attendants. For a few days the slaves were bright   
and quite fond of their mistress's sudden change in disposition, but   
those who remembered Millard's last visit were more hesitant to   
accept Relena's new side.  
  
True enough, a week before Millard was due to arrive, slaves   
mysteriously went missing, shipped off without explanation to the   
market along with some of the more drab house decorations. New slaves   
popped up in their places. All of them were younger and prettier than   
those they had displaced, without exception. A fearful eye was cast   
back over the slaves and they resumed a timid stance and tones   
whenever being forced into Relena's presence.  
  
Sarilyn, the dishwasher, disappeared from the kitchens and was   
replaced by a girl so young and petite she hardly fit into the   
homespun uniform supplied to her. With the rush of activities for   
Millard's arrival and the removal of Sarilyn, no one in the kitchen   
noticed when Heero failed to show up.  
  
Trieze, however, was quick to note the boy's Wild appearance and   
roving, insubordinate eyes gone from the usually mass within the   
field hand building that night. Immediately the search hounds were   
roused from their pin and the silence of the manor night was   
shattered by a frenzied hunt for the rogue slave.  
  
Anyone Heero had been seen in company with was dragged from sleep   
and   
out before Trieze's sharp tongue and Relena's heated glare. "Slaves   
don't just get lost walking from one building to another," Relena   
ranted, drawing her thick fur wrap tightly to her. "Quatre, I've seen   
the two of you talking. Shame on you, Quatre, for turning my good   
favor against me so!"  
  
"Milady!" Quatre exclaimed, panicked eyes starting to rise off the   
floor, but were quickly glued back down to the carpet at Trieze's   
growl of warning. "I assure you, I hadn't even thought the boy   
capable of running away!"  
  
"It's true, milady," the braided field hand added, looking remarkably   
out of place among the finery of Relena's ante chamber. Sticking out   
more subtly was his copper earring, as opposed to Quatre and Trowa's   
gold ones and Wufei's silver. "The lash wounds got infected, he could   
barely raise one arm."  
  
Relena blinked in surprise as this revelation, then pinned Trowa with   
the full force of her glare, "Is this so?"  
  
"Yes, milady."  
  
One golden eyebrow was raised questioningly towards Trieze's boy, who   
echoed agreement. Relena whirled about in a flurry of fur and silk,   
stabbing an accusing finger into Trieze's broad chest, "Do not dare   
tell me that one of my slaves is not only missing, but sick as well!   
He best not die, Trieze, or so help me I'll take the cost of his   
replacement from your pay," Relena hissed in a low voice.  
  
"Milady, I hadn't the faintest knowledge the boy was ill. If what   
these slaves," Trieze emphasized the word, gesturing rudely the four   
boys, "say is true, than he could not have gone far. We will find him   
before the sun breaks, and then milady can watch the hanging after   
morning tea."  
  
Four sets of eyes widened and Duo especially looked aghast.   
"Hanging?" Quatre whispered softly in disbelief. Run, Heero!  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
The howl of the hounds was distant, but even still it cut through the   
peace of the forest and slashed across Heero's determined heart. They   
had his scent, it wouldn't be much longer now before the dogs caught   
up with him. They would bring him down like a hart, tearing at his   
skin and clothes with sharp canine teeth and dripping fangs.  
  
At least he'd died out here, beneath the trees, and not tied to a   
whipping post like some wild beast. At least he wouldn't give Relena   
or Trieze the satisfaction of seeing him dragged back into submission   
and chains. He would never jump to her commands again. Never again.  
  
The images flashed back through his mind again, searing across his   
eyes and refusing to leave him in peace to die. Relena, prettily   
dressed and arranged like some elaborate baby doll, calling him to   
her side like a faithful hound. Trailing her fingers over his skin,   
forcing him to hold her and kiss her...   
  
Heero gained an extra burst of speed from his anger, temporarily   
forgetting the crippling pain that exploded across his back with each   
jarring stride. His eye were adjusted to the dark enough so that he   
could see the ground and make out trees and other large objects, but   
someone he managed to overlook the root entangling up from the ground.  
  
In a graceless frenzy to avoid crashing to ground, Heero twisted and   
wildmilled his arms, barely staying upright. Before he could give   
himself congratulations, a low hanging tree limb slammed into his   
forehead and promptly ended cognitive processing for a few seconds.  
  
When he came around enough to register the pain, Heero knew it was   
doomed. The baying of the hounds was closer now and there was no way   
he could his tortured body up and running again. He'd go out laying   
on his back among the early autumn leaves.   
  
Somehow, it seemed fitting.  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
As it turned out, there was no hanging after Relena's morning tea.   
The search parties arrived back at the manor with their prize right   
about the same time as a messenger from town. "Dear Millard, you   
always know how to make a grand entrance," Relena said with a wry   
laugh, showing the note to Noin.  
  
"What about the slave, milady?" Trieze asked, impatient to wring the   
insubordinate young man's neck from the nearest tree.  
  
"It will have to wait. Lord Millard might wish to attend the event,   
and it would quite rude of us to deny him such pleasures. For now,   
put the boy in Mistress Po's care. I'd like him to be lucid when his   
time comes," Relena said with a pleasant smile, as if she were   
discussing the latest style of skirt.  
  
She turned away from the slave master with a clearly dismissive   
gesture, heading for her bedroom without so much as a backwards   
glance to summon her attendants. They trailed after her obediently,   
small thrills of terror echoing through each face at the prospect of   
seeing a hanging. No one had ever tried to run off in... Hilde shook   
her head slightly, trying to ignore the distant memories of rope   
snapping taunt and bone breaking...  
  
"I want to wear my emerald traveling costume, with the black lace,   
not the white. Cassinilla, pile my hair up and secure it with..."   
Relena shuffled aside the contents of her jewelry box and pulled out   
a large onyx barrette with matching earrings and necklace. "Here, use   
these."  
  
"Milady, shall I go prepare the carriage?"  
  
"Of course, Noin! Hurry, we mustn't keep Millard waiting."  
  
"Milady, do you want to wear your black boots or the emerald   
slippers?" Hilde asked, following Mariemeia who carried an armful of   
fabric and lace.  
  
Relena lifted her head and submitted it into Cassinilla's skilled   
fingers, which nimbly twisted and brushed the long blonde locks. "The   
boots, the Gods only know how filthy the docks can be. Why my dear   
brother would ever submit himself to the torment of the sea I will   
never know. Cassinilla, if you dare pull my hair again I'll slap you   
silly!" she snapped, causing the nervous hair dresser to drop her   
brush and the barrette.  
  
"Oh for the love of... Just pin the damn thing in and leave," Relena   
said, slapping back at the girl's hands. Cassinilla shoved the onyx   
clip into the mass of loose blonde curls she'd created and fled,   
grateful to me free of her cruel mistress's claws.  
  
"It will have to do..." Relena sighed, securing the necklace and   
earbobs herself before turning away from the vanity and holding her   
arms out stiff like a doll. A flurry of fabric and billowing skirts   
ensued as Hilde and Mariemeia removed Relena's simple brown frock and   
plucked the grand traveling costume down over her head, careful not   
to disturb the delicate hair arrangement.  
  
The boots were scarcely on her feet before Relena bolted, hurrying   
down the staircase in a rush of silk and lace. Her attendants rushed   
after her, Hilde remembering to grab the matching black lace cap and   
parasol. "Noin!" Relena called as she set foot across the entry hall,   
"Noin!"  
  
Within moments the carriage was pulling away from the manor, delaying   
Heero's grim fate.  
  
  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
Author's Notes: I'm sooo sorry this took so long to get out!   
Fortunately, there's a nice, big Fall Break this weekend, and I hope   
to get out at least two more chapters before next Monday. I don't   
have to go to school tomorrow except for my last two classes, so that   
means uber writing time tonight (since I always try to write at night)  
and Wednesday night! YAY!   
I got the GW Operations CDs 1-3, so now I can listen to GW music   
while I write! ^^ Really, I'm just kinda rambling. Sorry. Anyway,   
hopefully the next chapter won't be to insanely far apart...   
Oh, while I'm thinking of it, I made a website exclusively for   
Completing the Silence, so if you'd like to bookmark the story or   
link it you can find it here: geocities.com/manzokubiscuit/silence  
Also I'd like to thank everyone who sent a review, they really mean   
a lot to me. I'm sorry I don't have more time to write, or to check   
my email... O_o so busy...!   
  
Feedback/reviews are very much appreciated! More chapters soon.  
copyright 2002 - Gundam Wing and characters copyright other people.  
LSE - "Violet" (ManzokuBiscuit@aol.com)  
Email me to join my Update ML (be alerted when I add new stories)  
www.geocities.com/manzokubiscuit/index.html 


	12. Playing with Fire

LSE // 10-16-02  
(Enslaving the Heart - Chapter Twelve: Playing with Fire)  
rated: R - language, content, violence  
shounen-ai/extreme AU/lime  
  
  
Playing with Fire  
  
  
  
  
  
Pain.  
  
Failure.  
  
The last hurt worst of all, and kept him from waking. He'd failed at   
something, and not just anything, but he'd failed at winning freedom.   
Escape. They would hang him, and that would be the end of it. That   
brought some comfort, even if it meant having to look at the triumph   
in Relena's eyes.  
  
Fire laced up and down his spine, swirling red into the black   
unconsciousness he so desperately clung to. Maybe he would just die   
of the pain. The idea didn't seem to bad upon closer examination. it   
would keep the triumph from the ice blue hues that chased him around   
in his mind. Pleading, demanding, filled with unnatural lust and   
cruelty. Something else. That something scared him more.  
  
He submitted himself into the red and black torment, willingly   
letting his life fade. Anything to keep the triumph from her.  
  
Red dissolved and black faded into gray as, instead of the sweet arms   
of Death, he found consciousness waiting for him. His eyes remained   
closed, but he was suddenly aware of his surroundings. Something cool   
and comforting was laid across his back. Dammit, he wanted to die,   
not live. Relena was more twisted than he thought, stirring him from   
Death's door only to shove him back through.  
  
"...half way to Shinigami."  
  
Reflexes made his eyes snap open, but as for once more in as many   
days, he found himself face down. At least the surface before him   
from a soft pillow, and his head tilted to one side comfortably.   
Although, if he stayed like that for much longer, the muscles would   
grow stiff and sore. That they weren't already told him he hadn't   
been there so very long.  
  
Voices had stirred him fully into the land of the living, but that   
one word had jolted him into crystal comprehension and murky   
confusion. Shinigami, he recognized that word. It was one of his own,   
a word from the Wilds. "God of Death," he muttered aloud, hardly   
aware he'd even spoken.  
  
"Say good-bye to Mister Death and come join the living," the voice   
coaxed with forced cheer. He sensed underlying concern.  
  
A voice. "Duo?" he guessed, cautiously turning his head despite the   
lashes of pain it sent down his back.  
  
"Of course," the braided slave said with the same cheerfulness, "did   
you have a nice nap?"  
  
Heero's eyes narrowed in answer. "Where am I?"  
  
"Infirmary. Surgeon's quarters. Hell in a hand-basket. Want some..."   
Duo glanced down to the cup held carefully in his hands, "hemlock?   
Oh, wait, Mistress Po said this was a pain killer. I'm was supposed   
to give it to you, if... well, when you woke up." Duo barely saved   
the words, but they still hung between them.  
  
"Anyway, want it?"  
  
"No," Heero glared furiously at nothing, hating himself for just   
lying there. Maybe he could try for another run at it, just take off   
and hope he found freedom or death.   
  
"Why'd you try to run? I mean, you're not exactly in the best of   
shape, Heero. No offense."  
  
"Wouldn't you run if you could?"  
  
"No. Not without Hilde," Duo replied without hesitation. "Listen, I'm   
not even supposed to be here, Wufei'll get in so much trouble if   
Trieze finds out. Are you sure you don't want the pain killer?"  
  
"I'm sure."  
  
"Oh," Duo said, setting the cup aside and studying his hands   
intently. Awkward silence stretched between them for a few minutes,   
then Duo spoke. "If you want to... try again. You know, run. Relena's   
not here, neither is Noin. Millard showed up, they're gonna wait   
'till he gets here to... hang you. Mistress Po won't tattle, she's   
okay that way. So, you could probably get pretty far before anyone   
even noticed you were gone. I bet you could have made it, had you   
been going in the right direction."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You were heading east. Nothing's out that way except Peacecraft   
land. Follow the road, that'll get you into town. Oh, might want to   
find different clothes real quick, and take out the earring."  
  
Heero stared at the boy for a moment, hardly able to think. It made   
sense, Duo was right. No one would think that he'd try again so soon.   
Now was the perfect time to go.   
  
"Hn. Thanks," he muttered, clamping his teeth down on the rising   
nausea as he hauled himself out of the bed. His feet seemed stable   
enough. He stood, then waited for the world to stop spinning before   
taking a few cautious steps towards the door.   
  
"Hey, wait, maybe you shouldn't..." Duo said, standing as well and   
eyeing him critically.   
  
"Hn," Heero grunted as the pain brought him down to a knee. Fool!   
Get up, don't let them hang you! Don't give her the satisfaction! He   
started to stand, but Duo was there, hands on Heero's thin shoulders.  
  
"Mistress Po was right, you're burning up with fever. Bloody hell,   
you're like fire!"  
  
Fire. Over his back. Pain, everywhere. Fire in his soul. Heero   
started to tell Duo he was fine, and to let him go, but Duo's grip   
tightened suddenly, cutting off what Heero was going to say. "Please,   
don't. It doesn't matter if you get caught, they can only hang you   
once, after all, but... I just have this feeling. You're gonna die   
out there, if you try to run. Even if you make it into town, but   
that's a good day's travel on foot..."  
  
"I don't care. I have to try." Why was he bothering to explain   
himself? Heero pushed against Duo's grip, starting to stand, but the   
boy grabbed his hand so quick it brought him to the ground with a   
thud. Pain rolled over him and he barely managed to catch a moan from   
escaping. Instead, he let his eyes close and he tried to focus the   
pain away, like he was taught. He couldn't let the pain stop him.  
  
Warm lips suddenly pressed against his and his eyes flew open shock.   
Duo pulled away slightly, amethyst eyes daring to meet startled   
cobalt blue. "You should care," Duo whispered.  
  
"Wha..." he started to say, but Duo's lips cut the words off. He   
found himself responding, bringing his mouth open to accept the boy's   
tongue. They parted, breathless and feeling dizzy, at least Heero was,  
but he suspected it mostly being from the fever raging through him.  
  
The fire made his skin sensitive to the slightest touches, the blood   
coursing through his outer layering in futile attempt to draw the   
heat away from vital organs. Duo's skin felt cold against him, and he   
clung to that chill in hopes of driving off the fire.  
  
Maybe it was the fever burning through his mind, or maybe the keen   
sense of danger and death, but Heero found himself not willing to   
push away Duo. He found himself accepting, coaxing, teasing the boy,   
receiving the same in return.   
  
Heero was fire under Duo's fingers, lean, sleek and dangerous. He was   
careful to avoid touching the inflamed wounds across Heero's back,   
helping to dull the boy's pain. He let himself enter into the moment,   
forgetting that he was supposed to be tending to a machine, and not   
the flesh and blood before him. Forgetting that Death waited.  
  
Shinigami had claimed Heero as his own.  
  
  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
Author's Notes: Darn you, R rating! *shakes fist* Anyway, I hope you   
enjoyed the yummy yaoi lime. It would have been a lemon, but there's   
that whole R rating and all... ^^() Oh, well. First evening of Fall   
Break and I already got one chapter done! Woohoo! I've also got about   
half of the next chapter written. Victory dance for me.   
Did I forget anything? Oh, hemlock is a deadly poison, in case you   
didn't know. Socrates (did I spell that right?) was killed by it.   
Random historical fact...  
Byrony, are you still alive? O_o Many thanks to everyone who sent in   
a review! Feed the muses! ::glances to muses warily::   
  
Feedback/reviews are very much appreciated! More chapters soon.  
copyright 2002 - Gundam Wing and characters copyright other people.  
LSE - "Violet" (ManzokuBiscuit@aol.com)  
Email me to join my Update ML (be alerted when I add new stories)  
www.geocities.com/manzokubiscuit/index.html 


	13. Welcoming Committee

LSE // 10-19-02  
(Enslaving the Heart - Chapter Thirteen: Welcoming Committee)  
rated: R - language, content, violence  
shounen-ai/extreme AU  
  
  
Welcoming Committee  
  
  
  
  
  
It was nearly noon by the time Relena's carriage rolled to a stop   
beside the docks. She impatiently waited for the footman to hurry   
around and open her door and her attendants to form a neat line. From   
the corner of her eye she could see Noin pinching color into her   
cheeks and laying a cautious hand to her short cropped, dark hair.   
  
Even though the docks were the least socially proper place Relena had   
ever witnessed, she refrained from stepping out of line and directly   
speaking the her attendants. Fortunately, Noin was as eager to greet   
Milliard as herself, and wasted no time sending one of the slaves up   
to the grand ship to locate her brother.  
  
Relena stood on the single silk square that had been placed for her   
over the muck and filth that was the wooden planks of the docks and   
looked as if she couldn't care less that she was waiting. Only the   
fact that toyed with the lace hem of her sleeve gave away her   
nervousness. After what seemed like forever, a tall figure appeared   
in the fogged gloom.  
  
"Milliard!" she shriek, abandoning any sense of propriety and dashing   
off her silken island and towards her brother.  
  
His skin was just as pale and creamy as ever, despite his travels and   
exposure to the sun. Milliard's long, pale blonde hair, a far lighter   
shade than her own golden locks, had grown out past his shoulders and   
now reached almost his waist. Pale blue eyes almost identical to   
Relena's blinked once in surprise as his sister tackled him in a hug.  
  
"Relena!" he swept her up into his arms and gave her a twirl,   
petticoats exposed for a half-second before he set her back on solid   
ground and the multitude of skirts settled back down into place. "I   
hardly recognize you," Milliard said, looking at the young noble   
creature his little sister had become in his absence.  
  
"You look just the same," Relena beamed, running a hand over the   
fine   
velvet of his coat, "I'm so glad to see you!"  
  
Milliard suddenly frowned and tried to pull the emerald silk that   
covered her bosom a little higher, "Dear Heavens, Relena, you have   
grown up! I can hardly believe Miss Lucrezia let you out of the house   
in this dress."  
  
"You'll find some things have changed around the manor, my dear   
brother, one of which being our Miss Lucrezia's status. Madame Noin,"   
she stressed the title, "remains in faithful service, but she no   
longer serves as a governess."  
  
Pale eyebrows rose at Relena's statement, and Milliard looked over   
her shoulder to the hovering pack of slaves, "Well, is Madame Noin   
with you? I would like to see her."  
  
"Of course," Relena said, trying not to betray the sudden pang of   
jealousy. Milliard has always been Noin's favorite, even when they   
were younger, and now the crafty woman was making eyes at her   
brother...! Relena had hoped that when she'd lowered Noin's status   
the woman would get the idea, but...  
  
"Milord, welcome home," Noin said, sliding out from the shadows and   
approaching Milliard, her eyes bright with emotion.  
  
"My dear Lucrezia..." Milliard said as he took her hand. The words   
were murmured, but Relena caught them, and they caused her blood to   
boil. Noin blushed as Milliard lifted the hand to his lips and   
mimicked kissing it. At least he had the common sense not to graze   
his lips across her ungloved hands. What had the woman been thinking,   
going out without gloves?  
  
"Milliard," Relena called loudly, drawing his attentions away from   
Noin and back to herself, "Shall we take lunch at a nice teahouse? I   
know of a perfectly darling one nearby."   
  
"Forgive my crass manners, I've been too long at sea with heathens,"   
Milliard offered in apology, offering his elbow to her. "By all   
means, lead the way Lady Peacecraft."  
  
Shooting a triumphant look to Noin, Relena glided back to the   
carriage and accepted her brother's assistance getting settled back   
in. She was careful to take up just enough room so that Noin was   
forced to sit beyond reach of her brother. "Milliard, tell me all   
about where you have been! Don't leave out a single detail."  
  
"Oh, yes, milord, did you see any monsters in the sea?"  
  
"Noin, you truly are daft. There aren't monsters in the sea! Right,   
Milliard?" Relena asked, turning widely innocent eyes up at her   
brother.  
  
"I've never seen any," Milliard replied in careful compromise.   
  
Relena barely kept from sticking her tongue out at Noin.  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"Where are you from?" Heero asked quietly into the calm silence that   
had enveloped the small room.  
  
Duo looked over at him, clearly startled, "Same as you, I imagine.   
The Wilds..." he shrugged, leaning back against the bed. "Why?"  
  
"I heard you talking about Shinigami. I recognized the word."  
  
"Oh, yeah. God of Death and all that good stuff." A small pause.   
"Were you always a slave? Born into it, I mean."  
  
"No. You?"  
  
"No, but I wasn't exactly born high society. I guess this life isn't   
too bad. I get food, at least. Poor Wufei, I can't imagine how he's   
keeping Trieze from noticing I'm gone," Duo said lightly, although   
his tone indicated he knew perfectly well how Wufei was distracting   
the slave master. He'd owe Wufei big after this.  
  
Heero peered over from his perch atop the bed, "Do you need to get   
back, then?"  
  
Duo's hair, loose and rolling over his shoulders in waves, shook as   
he firmly said, "No, I can stay. Mistress Po can just tell Trieze I   
was helping her, since she's got a bit of leverage over him and all."  
  
Before he could elaborate, they were interrupted by footsteps   
approaching from the other room. They both froze for an instant   
before Heero laid down on his stomach and Duo fled through the   
window, peeking over the edge for a moment to look at the other boy.   
"I'll try to come back later," he whispered before hurrying away.  
  
The door swung open quietly to admit a kindly looking woman with twin   
twists of soft blonde hair hanging on either side of her face. She   
was dressed sensibly in a white blouse and brown skirt, a cream   
colored apron tied across it. "Oh, good, you're awake," the woman   
said with a gentle smile, walking over and placing a hand across his  
forehead. "Fever's down, at least. Still warm. Are you in much pain?"  
  
"No."  
  
"That's good," she replied, leaning over to inspect the bandages   
which she'd placed so carefully over the lash wounds. She didn't say   
anything at them being half-fallen off but merely reached into the   
deep pockets of her skirt and pulled out a new roll of gauze.  
  
"I'm Mistress Po, surgeon for the estate. They told me your name was   
Heero," she went on cheerfully, distracting Heero from the slight   
discomfort of her re-bandaging. "I'd ask what your last name is, but   
slaves aren't really allowed family names. I think that's very sad,   
but that's just the way things are around here. You're from the   
Wilds, yes?" she hardly waited for his murmured answer before   
continuing on, "I've never been there myself, but then again scarcely   
anyone but the slavers would dare venture across the Borderlands."  
  
"It's a shame you couldn't have come to see me right after these   
happened. Infection's a nasty thing unless prevented. Don't worry   
though, there won't be any lasting damage. There will be some scars,   
but that's to be expected, yes? Okay, I'm all done," Mistress Po   
announced suddenly, backing away and re-pocketing the unused gauze.  
  
"Scars are not a problem."  
  
"Good. I was told to report back as soon as you woke up, but I think   
you still need some rest," Mistress Po said with a wink. Heero   
resisted the urge to stare at her, half of him thinking her annoying,   
the other half greatly impressed with her cunning. She knew he was   
supposed to be hung as soon as he was lucid, but here she stood,   
defying orders.  
  
"Maybe tomorrow you'll wake up, yes?"  
  
"Hn."  
  
"Taking that as a yes. Careful though, I don't want you disturbing   
those wounds anymore. I'll have some dinner sent over. Take care,   
Heero," the woman said, nodding slightly to him before leaving as   
softly as she came, closing the door behind her.   
  
Every instinct told him to run while he had the chance, but he had a   
feeling he would only failed once more. He didn't like failure.  
  
  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
Author's Notes: Thank you everyone for your patience! I spent the   
weekend partying instead of writing, I'm so sorry!! But here's chapter  
thirteen and I've got some of fourteen written already, so please   
forgive me! *hides face in coat sleeve* As you can see from the date at the top, I finished this late Saturday night, but was unable to actually post it anywhere until Sunday. Not my fault, I swear!  
I won't give any spoilers, but I will say that there is another   
citrus scene in the story, and I've decided to make it a lemon. Since   
I'd hate to compromise my R rating and be forced to remove the story   
from FFN, I'm going to do two versions. One will be a lime version   
and R rated, the other will be a lemon and NC17 rated. The lime I'll   
put on FFN and the lemon can go on my website. I'll include a link in   
the Author's Notes of the chapter when I write it. Before you ask, I   
already thought about doing the same thing with chapter twelve's lime,  
and I decided not to turn that into a lemon. Chapter twelve is going   
to stay just like it is.  
And, no, I'm going to say who the pairing for the next lemon will be!  
  
Feedback/reviews are very much appreciated! More chapters soon.  
copyright 2002 - Gundam Wing and characters copyright other people.  
LSE - "Violet" (ManzokuBiscuit@aol.com)  
Email me to join my Update ML (be alerted when I add new stories)  
www.geocities.com/manzokubiscuit/index.html 


	14. Shadowed Secrets

LSE // 10-20-02  
(Enslaving the Heart - Chapter Fourteen: Shadowed Secrets)  
rated: R - language, content, violence  
shounen-ai/extreme AU  
  
  
Shadowed Secrets  
  
  
  
  
  
Night was softly falling when the carriage returned to the manor.   
Relena stepped out, assisted by her brother, and realized with half-  
hearten disappointment that it would be far too late for a hanging.   
She peered up at Milliard and smiled shyly, "Brother, did I tell you   
a slave tried to run off?"  
  
An odd look came over Milliard's face, but he cleared it immediately   
and politely encouraged his sister to continue with her little story.   
They advanced up the walkway towards the house, followed closely by   
Noin. Relena beamed as she said, "He was caught, of course. We were   
going to have the punishment today, but I said to Trieze, I said,   
'Trieze, wouldn't it be far better if we waited and let my beloved   
brother watch, as well?' So, tomorrow, would you like to see the   
slave hung?"  
  
"Hung? Is death the punishment for a runaway?" Milliard said a slight   
trace of scorn.  
  
Relena looked hurt as she glanced up at him from the veil of her hair,  
long since freed from it's secured spot and left to float about her   
face. She had hardly noticed when it happened, but now she was   
acutely aware of how childish it made her look. Girls wore their hair   
down, ladies wore it up. Simple as that.  
  
"Of course, Milliard. That's how things are. I would rather keep the   
boy, it would be greatly cheaper, but we have to set examples for the   
others. If there was no grave punishment for trying to run, we would   
have slaves taking off as soon as we looked away."  
  
"There is so much I must learn about managing estates. You've done   
well since Father died. I'm very proud."  
  
Relena basked in the warmth of her brother's praise, "I'm a great   
lady, aren't I, Milliard?"  
  
"Yes, you are. Wouldn't you like to be a kind, merciful lady as well?   
I know you don't like war, so why taint your hands with the blood of   
slaves?" Milliard coaxed, guiding Relena away from the wary slaves   
and into one of the casual living rooms. Noin followed them still,   
unnoticed by either lord or lady.  
  
"Are you suggesting I just let him go without punishment?" Relena   
said, warmth leaving her eyes as she coldly looked up at her brother.  
  
"Of course not," he soothed, "I'm sure you can think of some   
alternative to death." Millard stepped away from her, gesturing to a   
portrait along one wall as he deftly and abruptly changed the   
subject, "You look simply grand in this painting, Relena. Pink   
becomes you."  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Someone else was in the room.  
  
Heero lay perfectly still, even going as far to keep his breathing   
the same level measure as if he were sleeping. That someone wasn't   
moving, wasn't posing threat.   
  
He allowed himself to relax in just the slightest before opening his   
eyes and letting them adjust to the dark. The person sat between him   
and the window, the pale moonlight outlining the shadowed form and   
preventing him from seeing facial features.   
  
"You're awake," the darkness whispered, and he recognized the voice   
immediately. "Wanna go on a little trip?"  
  
Heero sat up carefully, looking not to Duo, but to the door, "What   
kind of trip?"  
  
"We'll be back before morning. You won't have to worry about her,"Duo   
stressed the pronoun, indicating both Relena and Mistress Po in one   
word, "and he's been taken care of, too," meaning Trieze.  
  
"Where to?"  
  
"That's a secret," Duo whispered, offering out his hand, "but trust   
me, you want to come. What have you to lose?"  
  
Being condemned to die certainly put things into perspective, and Duo   
had a point. Plus you trust him, whispered a little part of his mind.   
Heero ignored the offered hand, though, and stood by himself. To his   
slight surprise, the movement didn't send waves of harsh pain across   
his back.   
  
Duo noticed and smiled into the darkness, "Mistress Po's a real   
wonder, isn't she? Can you crawl through the window? It's a little   
bit of a fall, so be careful," Duo warned as he sat on the window   
sill and looked back to Heero.  
  
"Hn," Heero gave as an answer. Duo took it for a yes and dropped out   
from sight, landing with a soft noise to the ground. Heero followed,   
but he landed slightly off and was about to fall when a strong hand   
caught his arm. Heero murmured a slight thanks and chided himself   
mentally, but didn't pull free of Duo's touch.  
  
"Hurry, Maxwell, we haven't got the time to stand around," came   
Wufei's voice from the shadows. The boy stepped out from his place   
against the wall and fixed them both with a scornful look.  
  
"Maxwell?" Heero whispered once they were moving stealthily away from   
the small building and across the swath of land.  
  
"Duo Maxwell, at your service," Duo whispered back, taking Heero's   
hand with a sly look, smiling slightly in the dark.  
  
"Mistress Po said slaves weren't allowed last names."  
  
"We field hands are, it's a sign of our lower ranking. Isn't that   
perfectly messed up?"  
  
"Quiet," Wufei whispered harshly to them both, cutting off further   
conversation.   
  
Heero became aware that they weren't the only darken forms stealing   
away from the manor at night. He resisted asking where they were   
going and instead focused on making as little noise as possible. Soon   
the grass beneath their feet gave way to the cluttered under growth   
of the forest. Wufei led the way, expertly picking path through the   
scattered debris and avoiding twigs or leaves. The three of them were   
shadows.  
  
Gradually, moonlight and darkness gave way to a warm glow as, through   
the trees, Heero could make out firelight. A small bonfire, enough   
for light and heat, but enough to be seen from the manor or the edge   
of the forest, stood in the middle of a clearing.   
  
Several slaves were gathered around, shaking out the chill of the   
night and talking in low, whispered voices. More slaves poured in   
from the forest, bundled together in groups of twos and threes. Most   
of them wore a copper ring through the one ear, but there were a few   
silver. He didn't see any gold, which made him suddenly aware of his   
own earring.  
  
They passed through the trees and approached the fire, a ripple going   
through the gathered mass. Heads turned and eyes widened slightly,   
and for a moment Heero thought it was because of his gold earring,   
but he spotted Quatre and Trowa not too far off and scratched that   
theory.  
  
"Well, if it isn't Master Trieze's hand puppet," a slave sneered,   
looking down at Wufei contemptuously.  
  
"More like hand job..."  
  
"Or fuck puppet."  
  
Wufei's ears tinged red, but otherwise he didn't show any signs of   
being bothered by the whispered comments. Duo, on the other hand,   
flushed crimson with anger and stepped forward, fists raised and   
ready for a fight, "Take that back, Huern," he snarled.  
  
The other slave's eyes narrowed darkly, but before a fight could   
break out, Wufei placed a hand on Duo's shoulder and said quietly,   
"Let it go, Maxwell."  
  
Duo held the other boy's glare, but he stepped back and nodded once,   
"Your right."  
  
"What is this?" Heero asked when the trouble had passed. More of the   
house slaves, with their silver and gold, filed in and took up places   
around the fire. Among them, he recognized Relena's attendants,   
Mariemaia and Hilde.   
  
"A secret meeting of the slave resistance," Duo replied with a wild   
grin. Heero blinked in surprise and started to accuse Duo of lying,   
but the grin faded and he nodded seriously, "I guess I'm taking a   
risk, bringing you here. Wufei didn't think we could trust you." Duo   
watched his face carefully, looking for hesitation.  
  
"You can trust me," Heero said softly, looking at the gathered slaves   
in a different light than before. He saw it now, the subtle   
nervousness that enveloped them all. Quatre stood close to Trowa,   
ever so lightly stroking his fingers across the other boy's hand as  
they both watched the fire.   
  
He also saw the fear pass from Duo's eyes, fear that Heero would try   
to betray them, fear he wouldn't accept the chance Duo was offering.   
Of course, there was a shadow looming over Heero's life, that   
impending doom of his punishment. As if having read his mind, Duo   
said, "I don't think she'll hang you."  
  
"Hn? Why not?"  
  
"Lady Relena's a softy under it all."  
  
Heero let out a snort of disbelief, "You've never met her, have you?"  
  
"She called us all to her parlor when they were trying to find you.   
She seemed very concern when it turned out you were hurt. She's not   
much older than us, you know. Maybe even younger. No family left   
except for her brother, and he's... Well, he's not around to oversee   
the manor, so it's all up to her. Trust me, she won't hang you."  
  
Despite Duo's words, Heero could see in his mind the chill of Relena's  
eyes, those icy hues void of all sympathy. He started to tell Duo a   
little about the kind of lady Relena Peacecraft was, but a stir of   
movement at the edge of the clearing stopped him. The slaves fell   
back as a black robed figure walked out from the forest flanked on   
either side by a man and woman, who also wore robes, but upon   
entering the clearing pushed the dark hoods off their faces.  
  
The other person remained hooded, a deep cowl concealing age, gender   
and appearance. The woman cast her eyes about the slaves, who had   
gathered around her and the other two instead of the fire. "There are   
less here than last time," she noted with obvious disappointment.  
  
"Who are they?" Heero whispered to Duo, even though he'd already   
assumed the three were the leaders of the resistance.  
  
"The woman's known as Lin. I don't know the man, he must be from a   
different estate or something..." Duo frowned slightly.  
  
"And the other?"  
  
"Zechs Marquise."   
  
  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
Author's Notes: Wai! I managed to get one more chapter written! Of   
course, it's so late I probably will have to add it tomorrow...   
*sigh* Oh well, at least it's written, right?  
I tried to explain it within the story, but some of you were a bit   
confused as to the whole "Wilds" kinda thing. You know how all the   
Gundam boys are from the colonies? The Wilds (note the capital) is   
the area outside of the civilized world in the story, notably the   
kingdom in which the Peacecraft manor belongs and the neighboring   
kingdoms. Slaves are often taken from the Wilds, but slaves can also   
be children sold into it by their parents, or captured in battle. So,   
to clarify once more, the Wilds are a place that Heero, Duo and Wufei   
are confirmed to be from.  
I just have to acknowledge that one of the ideas that I used in this   
story (the earrings worn by the slaves, except in the books its a lip   
ring, but that's not as sexy, is it? ^^) comes from the Sword of   
Truth books by Terry Goodkind.   
Someday, I am *so* going to write a Sword of Truth fusion...   
  
Feedback/reviews are very much appreciated! More chapters soon.  
copyright 2002 - Gundam Wing and characters copyright other people.  
LSE - "Violet" (ManzokuBiscuit@aol.com)  
Email me to join my Update ML (be alerted when I add new stories)  
www.geocities.com/manzokubiscuit/index.html 


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